Jak and Daxter: After the Storm
by Alternative Delirium
Summary: Jak and Daxter are back, once again defending Haven from an inside menace. Their to-do list consists of taking names and kick'n ass, tutoring Keira in the ways of the battle, and deciding what to do about a mysterious dream...
1. Chapter 1: And So It Begins

A/N: Alrighty, I've got the first chapter revised at least. This version reads a little more smoothly than the previous one. At least for me. I'm content with this one, anyway. Ah. One down, eleven to go. On a side note, I've taken down all the little author's note "chapters" before the authorities could hunt me down and hurt me. So, if you have the time or patience to reread And So It Begins, I would greatly appreciate any reviews you may send. I loves you all.

Entire Fiction Disclaimer Because I Refuse To Repeat This More Than Once: I sorta kinda really don't own anything. In this entire fic. Basically. Oh well... (sigh)

* * *

Jak bent down and wrapped his arms around the hood of his zoomer in an overly enthusiastic embrace.

"Oh baby, you don't know how much I've missed you!" he stated happily, apparently speaking to the vehicle.

"Get a grip Jak, you're embarrassing yourself," Daxter snorted disgustedly, eyeing the A-Grav with suspicion. Jak ignored the remark from his furry friend and continued to caress the zoomer propeller lovingly. Keira, hands on hips, surveyed the vehicle from an angle, rolling her eyes when Jak planted a kiss on the tiny windshield.

"It was really thoughtful of time-twin-Daddy to send you your zoomer back. Er, forward," said Keira, now moving around the orange, chipped paint zoomer to examine the other side.

"Yeah, Greenie really doesn't have an excuse for keeping it around. You and Jak started to build it when we were twelve. Which means that time-twin-Jak will build this exact zoomer in about... five years," Daxter counted off on his fingers. "He won't be needing this one."

"Who wants a ride?" Jak asked joyously as he swung his right leg over the seat and sat down, glancing at the old controls on the display panel with child-like anticipation.

"Oh, Jak," Keira began, frowning slightly at this uncharacteristic trait. "I was hoping to examine it a bit before you took it out. What if something's been broken from the time travel? I mean, it would be safer if I was able to take it apart first..." she put in anxiously.

"Take it _apart_?" Jak gasped, emphasizing the last word and looking stricken. "Ten minutes after I get it back, and you already want to tear it up?"

"I didn't mean it like that, I just thought..."

"I don't believe this!"

"Jak..."

Jak wrapped his legs around the underside of the zoomer and his arms around the windshield. His bottom lip sticking out playfully, he replied defiantly, "No. I won't let you hurt it. It's mine. _Mine_!"

Keira smiled down at him as if he were a stubborn two-year old. "Jak, it was cute when you were seven. Now it's just pathetic. Get off the zoomer."

Jak let his mouth fall open in protest, but he knew he wouldn't win against Keira when he saw the look of pure determination on her face. "Fine," he snapped reluctantly as he released his death grip on the vehicle and jumped off. He turned and gave it one last pat before looking Keira straight in the face and added in a warning tone, "If you break it…"

Keira leaned forward and placed a quick kiss on his cheek. Taken aback by the unexpected but pleasantly surprising gesture, Jak froze in mid-lecture. "I'll take good care of it," she replied in mock seriousness.

"Hey!" Daxter shouted, demanding immediate attention from his stance on the hot road. "Are you two about done here? If you hadn't noticed, it's hotter than all three Charlie's Angels in direct sunlight, and I would prefer _not_ to melt."

Daxter climbed up on Jak's shoulder; ready to leave the seaside road for the Naughty Ottsel (Daxter's newly acquired bar) nearby. Jak threw a last longing glance at his zoomer, then turned and began to make his way east on the road. Keira removed the keys from the parked vehicle, pocketed them deftly, and followed Jak.

"So… When do you plan to open the Ottsel to the public, Dax?" Keira inquired conversationally as they continued on their way.

"Soon, soon," Daxter replied. "I just need to... tie up some lose ends, that's all."

"You're not doing anything _illegal_, are you Daxter?" Keira instantly implored sternly. Jak grinned at her perceptiveness. Keira knew Daxter too well.

"What? Oh, no. Definitely not," Daxter answered nervously, probably a little too quickly.

"Daxter..." Keira began threateningly, intent on pulling the truth out of the rodent whether he liked it or not.

"Hey, look!" called Daxter as he left Jak's shoulder in one agile leap and sprinted further ahead. "Sig!"

Sure enough, the tall, dark man was just then reaching for the doorknob of the Naughty Ottsel when the three friends spotted him. "Well, hello there cherries. I was just coming to see you, Jak," Sig greeted. "Why don't we all have a sit down, maybe a drink?" He added, opening the bar's door.

"Uh, sure," Jak confirmed, a bit confused. Sig never came to call just to say 'hi.' No, Jak was certain that either Sig needed something, or the Wastelander had some news of importance. "What's this about, Sig?" Jak asked as they filed through the open door. Sitting down at the counter near the far end of the room, Sig shrugged and gave a half-hearted smile.

"What? Now I have to have a reason to have a friendly chat with a couple of buddies? C'mon, now..."

"Drop the act, Sig. Drama doesn't suit you," Daxter remarked scathingly, a bored expression on his fuzzy mug. "We know you better. What really brought you out here?"

Sig sighed. "Now, I didn't want to deliver the bad news right off, but it's not like you two are going to give me any choice. Alright." He turned to face all of them, glancing at each one in turn. "But before I go any further, I'll have a Dirty Daxter, on the rocks," he said, looking directly at the orange animal as if placing an order. The ottsel just stood there, nodding and waiting for Sig to continue until everyone was staring at him. Then, finally realizing that they were waiting for him to go and fetch the drink, he snapped into action.

"Oh," he responded quickly, attempting to shrug off his mistake with a thin laugh before leaping over the counter to gather glasses and ice cubes.

"Listen up, Jak. You remember Mar's gun? The one you and the rat used to blow open the Metal Head nest?" Sig asked bluntly. At the word "rat," Daxter's muffled voice from behind the counter exclaimed indignantly, "Hey!"

"Sure," replied Jak, recalling the time two months earlier when he and Daxter had used the Precursor Stone to activate the enormous weapon and blow a huge hole in the side of a stone barrier protecting the Metal Head nest.

"Well, guess what?" Sig drawled disappointedly. "You left that hole there, wide open. You know how many Metal Heads came crawling out after you destroyed Kor?"

"No," Jak answered truthfully, his eyes widening at this new prospect. "But I thought..."

"Well, cherry, you thought wrong. As soon as those metal menaces saw their decapitated leader, they shot out of that nest like a bat outta hell. Must've came to the conclusion that their little safe-hold wasn't so safe anymore, what with you in there, busting their asses left and right."

"So, what you're saying is..." Keira began slowly, putting the pieces together in her mind. "More Metal Heads?"

"That's right," Sig nodded.

"What does this have to do with me?" Jak asked sharply. He was afraid that he already knew the answer to his question, and he didn't like it one bit.

"Torn is reassembling the Underground," Sig explained, "and even recruiting new members. He asked me to come down here and give you and Dax the heads up. He's scheduled a meeting for tomorrow night, and he expects the whole damn team to come. He'll explain the rest then."

Daxter was now perched on the counter, beverage in hand, and a scowl on his face. "And how, pray tell, does any of this pertain to me? I have a bar to run! Jak can handle the Metal Heads on his own. It's not like I did anything to help before anyway," he finished, the last sentence hanging in the air with a tinge of good-natured jealousy.

"Yeah? Well, Torn wants to use your bar for the meeting place. I guess he just wants your permission. Does he have it?" Sig inquired.

"My permission, huh?" Daxter grinned at the thought of someone actually relying on him for something for a change. "Well, I don't know..." He spoke casually, as if the decision being made was difficult. "What's in it for me?"

"The Underground's gratitude," answered Sig, just as smoothly as Daxter. "And the fact that Torn will allow you to keep your limbs attached to your body."

Daxter set his jaw in an annoyed fashion, but replied in a stiff voice, "Yeah, I suppose I could use some business..."

"Good man," Sig stated happily, slapping the rodent on the back heartily and sending him over the lip of the counter and onto the hard floor. "I'll tell Torn." Turning to Keira, he added, "And you..."

Looking shocked at being dragged into the matter, Keira stepped back and asked incredulously, "And how am I involved?"

Sig looked her up and down with a critical eye. "You know how to handle a gun?"

"N-no, I..." she stuttered, looking from Sig to Jak, her eyes pleading him for help.

"Well, you gonna learn," he said flatly. He stood up. From his utility belt, he pulled a shotgun shaped weapon, resembling the Blaster he once gave to Jak, and threw it to Keira. She caught it clumsily, staring dumbly at it before looking back up at Sig, who was now backtracking toward the door. "But, I..." she called hoarsely after him, bewildered at her current situation.

"Torn will explain everything more clearly tomorrow night. Make sure you're all here," he stated firmly. He disappeared through the door without another word.

An awkward silence followed Sig's exit. Keira was still examining her new Blaster, dumbstruck. Jak was drumming his fingers on the bar counter, preoccupied with staring into space, deep in thought. Daxter was still glaring at the closed door, jaw set.

After a while, Jak slammed his fist down on the counter, startling Keira, who promptly dropped her gun. It fired in the opposite direction as it hit the floor, triggered from the fall. Keira screamed and jumped backward, almost knocking Jak's bar stool over. She clung to the thing nearest her own back, which happened to be Jak.

"Can you believe it?" Jak snarled angrily. Apparently, he had been indifferent to the sudden gunshot. Keira was unable to answer, struggling to catch her breath from the shock, frozen against Jak.

"I know!" replied Daxter, making a gesture with his hand toward the untouched beverage. "He didn't even pay for his drink!"

* * *

A/N: Unnecessary repetitive banter, insert futile pleading for the sparing of my life here, blah blah blah you get the general point. Thanks for reading the revision and/or the original version. Your reviews are most welcome, even at this point in time. I promise to get with it soon and finish up the whole re-editing deal and move on with chapter thirteen a.s.a.p. Hopefully this weekend. 

Don't forget to check out "Memoirs of a Victim!"

-Alternative Delirium


	2. Chapter 2: The Dream

A/N: … Been a while, hasn't it? Normally, I'd be asking for redemption on my part for taking such a long break from the fic, but at the moment I am entirely too pissed and dizzy to even think straight. So, suffice it to say that I am back and will now attempt, if the gods of the highly overrated technologically advanced computer age will it, to finish with the revisions. My humble apologies. Also, I have changed my alias to Alternative Delirium. Why? Because I'm in a dark mood. Deal with it.

* * *

"This doesn't make any sense," Jak complained that evening on their way home, Daxter perched on his shoulder, Keira at his side. 

"Tell me about it," Keira scoffed. "Why would Torn want me, of all people, to join the Underground? I mean, I don't know if I can do this..." She glanced nervously at the Blaster held tightly in her hands.

"Sure you can, sweetheart," Daxter commented suavely, removing Jak's identical weapon from its holster and aiming it forward. He squinted with one eye, as though looking through invisible crosshairs. "All you gotta do is make sure the barrel is pointing away from you, and FIRE!"

As he said this, he pulled the trigger, causing both Jak and Keira to yelp and jump in surprise. At the same time, the impact of the blast knocked Daxter flying backward off of Jak's shoulder.

They stared at the furry orange lump lying on the ground behind them in paralyzed shock. Jak advanced a step towards Daxter, about to rouse him when the rodent peeled himself from the pavement and added, while stumbling around for balance, in an almost-drunken voice, "Shee? Shimple as dat," and again fell to the ground.

* * *

That night, back at the hut, Jak lay back on his cot, hands behind his head, thinking. _Really, why would Torn want to reassemble the entire Underground just to hunt down a few Metal Heads? Couldn't he just appoint a unit of his men for that? I don't know. But I'm fairly certain this has a lot more to it than what Sig's telling us...  
_  
Jak gazed out his bedside window. From here, he could make out the gently swaying sea and the clear night sky above. Each star was a brightly contrasting pinpoint among the deep blackness above. 

_I really don't understand this. I don't mind going in after a few baddies myself, but I'd rather not put Keira in danger. I know Dax can handle himself just fine,_ he thought, now rolling over in a position that allowed him a glimpse of Daxter, snoozing soundly in the child length bed to his right. He grinned as Daxter's legs and arms began to work furiously in his sleep, as though he were dreaming he was chasing something on all fours.

_Yeah, Dax can hold his own. But I'm worried that Keira will find herself in for more than she can handle. I'll have to put in word with Torn about it. I'm sure he'll understand._

Jak yawned widely and stretched his arms out before rolling back over and closing his eyes. He was asleep in no more than a few minutes.

* * *

He was in a pitch-black void. It was so dark that Jak couldn't see anything, as if he were in a deep cave. He waved his hand frantically in front of his face, but still could not make out its outline. Suddenly, he was seized by an icy cold feeling that started in his left arm and grew out steadily through the rest of his body. He could feel himself changing, but he couldn't stop it. The pain from the occurring transformation forced him to fall to his knees, gripping his head in his hands. He had felt this happen before only once before, two months ago, when he couldn't control the effects the dark eco had over him. He had fought off a platoon of Krimzon Guards with this power, but now that he knew how to summon it of his accord, he couldn't think why it was again taking over him. 

He stood up, head in hands. Opening his eyes, he could see that the black void had disappeared, and in its place was Keira's hut. He looked around. There, by the fireplace, pulling a book out from a shelf, stood Keira. She opened the book and turned around, still absorbed in its pages, oblivious to Jak's presence. Jak took a tentative step towards her, causing the floorboard beneath him to creak. Keira looked up sharply, immediately dropping the book and backing into a corner.

"Oh my God..." Jak heard her gasp in shock. He reached out his hand for her, puzzled. He saw his dagger-like claws at his fingertips and immediately realized why she was so frightened.

"Keira..." he began in a hurt tone. "It's only me, Keira! I... I won't hurt you, it's just me, Jak!"

"Just don't come any closer. Jak, calm down, listen to me!" she was pleading, her eyes wide with terror. "Jak, please calm down. I'm not a threat, I'm your friend! Don't you remember me, Jak? Please, Jak, please..."

Jak pulled his hand back, a hurt look on his face. He backed off a few steps to make her feel more comfortable, maybe even see that he did not mean her any harm.

"Keira, I love you. I would never hurt you. Don't you understand that it's me? I'm still Jak, I don't understand what's happening to me, but I won't hurt you, I promise!" He had never told Keira that he loved her before, but he knew that it was true. He needed her to understand that he may look different, but he was still the same person.

By now, Keira had her back against the wall, tears shining in her eyes. "Jak, I want you to stay away until you've calmed yourself, okay? Just don't move from that spot until you've changed back..." she sobbed.

"Keira, I…" he had begun to explain, but at that moment, the icy cold feeling had seized him again. Enveloping his entire body, it was as if the freezing sensation had taken control of his limbs. His legs moved on their own, taking large steps toward her. He was suddenly angry, but he couldn't remember why. Inside his head, he was aware of what was happening, but he wasn't able to control it. Keira was now yelling at Jak to stop, to leave her alone, but as much as he wanted to obey, he couldn't stop his body. One more step, and he was no more than a foot away from her tear stained face.

"Jak, please." he heard her whisper faintly. His body forced him to draw his talon embedded hand back, ready to strike. Breathing heavily, he found himself staring into her horrified eyes for a split second, then, as he plunged his arm forward, Keira screamed. At the same moment, Jak was able to cry out, "NO!"

* * *

"Whaddaya mean, 'no'? Daxter inquired sleepily. He was standing on Jak's chest, yawning. Gasping for breath, Jak sat bolt upright, knocking Daxter off of his bed and onto the floor. "Hey!" he exclaimed from beneath the bed. "Cool it pal, it was just a dream," he added, peeling himself off of the floor. "You were talking in your sleep, so I decided to, er, wake you up," he grinned knowingly. 

Jak scanned his friend's smug expression before remembering the comment he had made in his dream to Keira about how he felt for her. He suddenly turned scarlet, but tried to look indifferent to this comment.

"Uh, really? Well." He cleared his throat, as his voice was beginning to sound shaky. "What, exactly, did I say?" He dreaded the answer.

Daxter smiled up at him from the floor. Without answering right away, he hopped up on the bed and sat with his back to the bedpost, hands behind his head. "Oh, not much," he grinned. He removed his right arm from behind his furry head and pretended to be studying his hand. "I couldn't make out much of it. All I really heard was." He paused dramatically, now moving his arrogant gaze to Jak's face. "How much you loooove Keira!"

Jak's face turned a darker shade of red. "R-really? Well, I don't know how that could have happened, I mean, obviously, we're just friends, that's all, and there's never going to be anything more between us, because we're just friends. And to add to that, I don't even remember what I was dreaming, to tell you the truth, so… Yeah." Jak finished, rubbing the back of his neck with his left hand in a distracted sort of way. He could still feel his face burning, and he knew that he hadn't convinced his ottsel friend one bit with his mindless babble.

When he finally brought himself to look back at Daxter, his orange pal was standing at the foot of his bed, arms crossed and a bored expression on his face except for one raised eyebrow. There was an uncomfortable silence following. "...Yeah," Daxter sighed after a few moments. "Whatever." He jumped off of the bed and shuffled to the door. Jak could hear him in the kitchen, rattling things around as he searched for sandwich makings. A few minutes later, Jak sighed exasperatedly and threw his covers back. Getting to his feet, he made his way across the room and into the kitchen. Leaning against the refrigerator, he tried to hide the guilty grin playing at the corners of his mouth.

"What? You don't believe me?" he laughed as Dax climbed onto the table to put his late night snack together. Daxter looked him up and down, noting that Jak had chosen to sleep in nothing but a pair of gray boxers.

"Well Jak, it's not so much that I don't believe you than it is that you're plainly flat out lying. I know what I heard, and I know that you know what you said, and until you spill the beans, you're not getting any of my sandwich," he snapped as he snatched the ham on rye back out of Jak's hand.

"Damn it Dax! I told you, I can't remember! I'd tell you if I did, I swear!" Jak growled wearily.

"Yak, yak, yak," Daxter waved his free hand dismissively as he trekked back into the bedroom, hauling the sandwich with him. Jak took a deep breath to keep himself from yelling at Daxter. It was so annoying having a roommate that gave you no privacy!

Jak forced himself to head back into the bedroom after Daxter, feeling that he was near defeat in keeping his secret. Actually, he was beginning to think that it might be best to tell someone about the horrible dream, just to get it off of his chest. And he knew that he couldn't tell Keira, for obvious reasons. So, feeling depressed, as if Daxter had just won a major victory over him, he dragged his tired body into the bed next to his friend's.

Daxter had switched the television on and was now sitting against his pillows, sandwich in hand. Jak followed suit, sitting on his bed in the same fashion, pretending to enjoy the comedy on the screen. Daxter was looking annoyingly smug, and it was driving Jak nuts. He felt that if he didn't tell Dax soon, the loud mouth ottsel would let this information slip to Keira. Ten minutes into this silent game, and Jak couldn't take it any more. He reached over and grabbed the remote from Daxter, thwacking him over the head with it.

"Ow! What the hell was that for?" he snarled.

"What the heck is wrong with you?" Jak yelled angrily.

"What? You obviously don't feel like sharing your dreams with me, and I don't particularly feel like sharing my sandwich with you right now," Dax stated matter-of-factly.

"It's not the sandwich, Dax," Jak began, anger receding. "I… I think I want to tell you about the dream."

"Aha, so you do remember. Caught you in the act, Jak. So, I suppose you'll be wanting half of this sandwich, huh?" Daxter asked, a friendly smile on his face.

* * *

Half an hour later, Jak had just finished his full description of his previous dream. 

"Whoa. Sounds like you you're scared, Jak," Daxter commented afterwards.

"Scared? Scared of what? Why would I be scared?" Jak replied hastily. He was in no mood to be patronized by someone one sixth of his height.

"Well, not really scared. More like worried." Daxter corrected.

"About what?" Jak repeated impatiently, pulling the covers tighter around his bare legs.

"About Keira!" Daxter responded just as impatiently as Jak. "Don't you get it? You love her right?" he asked.

Jak felt the color rush to his face again. He glanced sideways at Daxter to make sure he was serious in asking such a personal question, one that had already been answered. Then he lowered his eyes and slowly nodded in agreement.

"Well, you're worried that if you ever go psycho-Jak around her, then you won't be able to control yourself and might end up hurting her, like you did in your dream, " Daxter finished triumphantly.

Jak pondered this a moment. It did make sense. But how did that explain the chilling feeling he got when he changed? It felt the exact same as it did when he first transformed into Dark Jak, the time before the Oracle had taught him how to control it. It was puzzling, but Jak decided to push it out of his mind. It probably didn't mean anything, anyway.

"You think that's why I had the dream?" Jak inquired. He was merely trying to wrap this conversation up before it delved too deep into the territory of Jak's feelings for Keira.

"Of course," yawned Daxter. "I mean, what else could it be? But even so, you may want to ask Ole' Stump Head tomorrow, just in case. I bet he knows all about this dream interpreting crap."

Jak paled at the thought of having this conversation with Keira's father. He decided immediately that he wouldn't utter a word relating to this dream anywhere near Samos. Instead, he changed the topic.

"Listen Dax, it's late. We'd better hit the sack if we plan on getting up at all tomorrow. So, uh. night."

"Yeah. Sweet dreams, Jak," Daxter added before switching the light off, just a hint of irony in his voice.

Jak just had one more question. "Hey Dax?" he began.

"Mm hmm?" Daxter answered.

"You won't breath a word to Keira, will you?" he asked forcefully.

"Wouldn't dream of it Jak."

From the sleepiness of his tone, Jak couldn't tell whether he was sincere or not. But he would hold him to his promise. And Jak vowed to himself, "If he breaks his promise, I'll break his neck." With this in mind, Jak closed his eyes and fell off into a deep sleep.

* * *

A/N: Yes, the revisions are necessary. Yes, I have OCD. And to keep me sane, things need to have a somewhat constant order so that my neurotic brain does not simply combust within its skull, shattering the bone into thousands of splinters and making a righteous mess of this room. So I would ask that you not make any derogatory comments about my "wasting time." Thanks for your patience.

-Alternative Delirium


	3. Chapter 3: Target Practice

A/N: So how's everybody's summer break going so far? Everyone having fun? Good. Played any good games lately? Personally, I've recently acquired a love for the survival horror genre. And may I say, Silent Hill 2-4 are among the best I've had the opportunity to dissect, although Capcom's new Haunting Ground is a fair play as well. But I would advise against Siren, as you have to give commands to your character for every tiny action they make. Insert key. Start engine. Run the hell over undead police officer. And so on. It's also quite baffling that every character in said game is undoubtedly Asian, and yet possess British accents. Anyway, here begins my third revision.

* * *

Jak awoke late the next morning, the soft sound of a muffled conversation taking place in the next room. He pushed himself up from his warm bed and stumbled backward clumsily as he rubbed his forehead. Regaining his balance, he trudged sleepily across the room toward the doorway. Emerging into the sunlit kitchen, Jak expected to see Daxter grumbling to himself about something or other. He was surprised to see that Dax wasn't alone. On the other end of the table, seated in one of the faded wooden chairs, was Keira.

"Well, good morning, lover boy," Daxter chirped cheerfully as he caught sight of Jak in the doorway. Keira looked up as well. Her face grew pink, and she almost immediately turned her head in the opposite direction, shielding her eyes with her hands.

Jak was dumbstruck. Why had Daxter just called him "lover boy"? Had he gone back on his word and informed Keira of last night's events? And why had Keira turned away from him like that?

He was just about to ask them both, "What's going on?" when he glanced down at his legs and remembered that he wasn't wearing much.

"Oh shit," he mumbled, stepping back into the shadow of his room, the familiar feeling of color rushing to his face once again. He heard Keira's burst of laughter, and his face burned with embarrassment. Searching frantically for a pair of clean pants, Jak heard Daxter continue, "So, anyway, about that dream..."

Jak froze. "DAXTER!" he yelled angrily.

"Uh, just one moment Keira. We'll get back to the floating doughnut later," Dax said.

Keira sighed audibly. Floating doughnut? Jak thought. What is he talking about?

Daxter's head appeared around the door. "What now?" he spat.

"You know perfectly well 'what,'" Jak snarled quietly, trying to pull on a pair of jeans. "What the hell do you think you're doing in there?"

"What?" Daxter asked shrilly, looking baffled. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, you don't do you?" Jak hissed, picking his friend up by the scruff of the neck and looking him square in the eye. "Then what were you two discussing in there, huh?" he finished sarcastically.

Realization dawned on Daxter's face. "Ooh, that..." he whispered. "I didn't rat out on you, okay? Like I said I wouldn't," he finished indignantly.

"Then explain to me why you were talking about the dream..." Jak began hotly, but didn't have time to finish. Keira had poked her head around the corner to see what the holdup was.

"Hey, guys, what's... going on?" she asked slowly, noticing that Jak had Daxter pinned up to the wall. Promptly, Jak released his grip on Daxter, causing him to fall a good three feet and hit the floor with a thud. Straightening, Jak tried his best to smile, but couldn't help giving Dax a warning glance out of the corner of his eye.

"Uh, good morning," he grinned. Realizing that his pants were beginning to fall off, he quickly fumbled with the belt buckle, tightening its grip. "So, uh, you want some breakfast?" he asked awkwardly, searching for a conversation topic. "I could get something out of the fridge..."

"I didn't come over for breakfast, Jak," Keira smiled reassuringly. "Actually, I didn't really plan on coming here at all. I just sort of... wound up here."

Jak raised his eyebrows. "Really? How so?"

"Well," she began, now looking a little more uncomfortable. "I didn't get much sleep last night, to tell you the truth. I kept thinking about that stupid gun."

Jak remained still and shirtless. His expression hadn't changed. Keira took note of this and frowned.

"Okay, maybe it's not so much the gun," she confessed, beginning to sound upset. "I don't know why, but I feel... I don't know how to explain it. I really, really want to help out with the Metal Heads. I mean, I want to do my part. But I don't think that I... I don't know if I want to get involved with... the Underground," she finished, looking at her feet.

"Oh," Jak said. He couldn't think of anything else to say. Rubbing the back of his neck absentmindedly, he looked down at Daxter, who was now playing with a Precursor Orb, rolling it around on the floor. "So, what's so bad about being in the Underground?" he finally replied.

"Nothing, absolutely nothing. I didn't mean that I was against the cause or anything. But, you know how many people die working for the Underground?" she asked.

"But that was then, Keira. The main problem was the Baron and his Krimzon Guard. He's dead now. And the Guard is on our side. I mean, the Underground is directly related to the Guard, considering that Torn is the head of both. So you've got nothing to worry about..." Jak informed, trying his best to reassure his friend.

"I know, I know. But Metal Heads, Jak! They're ten times more dangerous than the Guard was. The Metal Heads attacked the city and killed all those people, including about half of the Guard. Remember?" she pleaded.

Jak couldn't think of anything to counter this with. She was right, and he knew it. This was the very thing he had been thinking about himself, the previous night before he had fallen asleep and had the dream.

"Yeah, I know," he said softly, trying to catch her eye. "I don't understand why Torn would want to put you at risk either. I'll talk to him for you. I'll tell him that I don't want you in harm's way, that way he won't try to bother you with it. Is that okay with you?" he asked gently.

Keira's eyes remained on the floor. Nobody spoke for a moment. Finally, she glanced out the window and moved to sit on the end of Daxter's bed.

"No," she sighed. Surprised at her answer, Jak sat down beside her and looked at her questioningly.

"No? But I thought that..."

"I don't want to quit the Underground, Jak. I guess I'm just a little nervous, that's all. Maybe even a little afraid of what might happen if I don't learn to use that Blaster right," she smiled sarcastically.

Jak chuckled.

"Yeah, I suppose it might be a good idea for you to learn how to shoot," he replied playfully.

"Y'know, I just got the craziest idea," Daxter spoke up for the first time in minutes.

"Yeah? And what might that be?" Jak implored, eyeing Daxter carefully, trying to interpret what the furry rodent was getting at.

"You got a Morph Gun, and now Keira has one too. Who better to teach her than you? I mean, you two are practically dating anyway. What's a few more private sessions in between?" Daxter remarked nonchalantly.

Jak had the intention to jump down and throttle Dax. Before he could make a threatening move toward the ottsel, Keira cut in.

"I think that's a great idea, Daxter," she responded lightly. "What do you think, Jak?"

"Uh, I, umm..." Jak sputtered. His mind hadn't quite registered everything yet, and he was trying to decide whether or not this was some sort of trap. "Yeah. Okay, sounds like a plan," he managed to say.

"Great." Keira got to her feet and grabbed Jak's arm. "C'mon, let's go!" she commented enthusiastically, pulling his arm in an attempt to make him stand.

"Huh?" he asked, baffled. "Go? Go where?"

"To the gun course, you dork," she replied teasingly. "Here," she added, grabbing a wadded-up gray t-shirt and throwing it at Jak's bare chest. She disappeared around the kitchen door.

Jak, a perplexed look on his face, slowly rose to his feet and began to pull the shirt over his head. With one arm through, he stole a glance downward at Daxter, who was smiling up at him.

"What?" Jak snapped, pulling his other arm through the sleeve.

"You're welcome," Daxter taunted, turning to put the Orb back in his bedside table drawer.

"Don't you give me that, smartass," Jak spat, gathering his zoomer keys and gun from the table. "Do you know how close you came to getting your head torn off? I swear, Dax..."

"Speaking of Torn, remember we have that meeting tonight at the Ottsel," Daxter began, changing the subject. "So make sure you two lovebirds are back before nine."

Setting his jaw in an angry fashion, Jak passed Daxter up on his way to the kitchen. As he pushed through the front door, he noticed that Keira had taken the driver's seat of the zoomer he had bought after the defeat of the Baron. He rolled his eyes and made his way over to the vehicle.

"The hell you are," he exclaimed playfully, crossing his arms.

"Come on. I never get to drive," Keira complained.

"That's because you drive like a drunk monkaw."

Keira made a disgusted noise in her throat.

"I do not. You've never given me a chance to drive, so how would you know how I..."

"I did too! Remember that time I let you take the wheel through the Mountain Pass? And you put a dent in the hood because you swerved..."

"Yeah, to miss a lightning mole! The poor thing couldn't see where it was going."

"Neither could you."

"I saw the boulder, I just didn't have enough time to stop..."

Keira ceased mid-sentence. She laughed. "This is stupid," she giggled.

Jak couldn't help but chuckle. "Yeah, you're right. Here," he dangled the keys in front of her face. "Go ahead. Who knows? Maybe your driving has improved over the last two years."

"Why, thank you," she replied soberly, snatching the keys from his outstretched hand. "Now we'll see who drives like a drunk monkaw," she added with a snort of laughter as Jak climbed on behind her.

She turned the key. The engine roared into life, and Jak automatically placed his hands on Keira's waist so as not to be thrown off the vehicle. "Hang on," she warned. The zoomer lurched forward and sped out of sight of the hut.

* * *

"So, how'd I do?" Keira questioned after she had brought the zoomer to a full halt.

She looked over her shoulder at Jak, whose windswept hair and pale face gave the impression that he had just gotten off of a roller coaster. His eyes were wide and his mouth dropped open, but no sound came out.

"Oh, come on," she breathed agitatedly. "I didn't hit anything, did I? So what's your problem?"

"Keira..." Jak said slowly.

"Yes?"

"You. Are. Insane."

"What? What do you mean, 'I'm insane'?"

"Were you aware of the speed limit?"

"Yeah, fifty-five, last I saw."

"You were going ninety-seven."

"Oh, you're full of it. I couldn't have been going that fast, this thing's speedometer only goes to eighty," she countered.

"Yeah. The speedometer…" Jak began, pointing to the broken needle on the dash in substitute for finishing his thought.

Keira stared at the speedometer. "Oops?" she commented uncertainly.

"Nevermind," Jak sighed, hopping off of the zoomer. "Let's just go."

"Hey, I can fix that," Keira stated, trying to catch up with Jak. "Really, all I'd need to do is..."

"I'm sure you could, Keira. Let's just focus on gun practice, okay?"

"Yeah, alright," she relented. They had reached the door to the course when Keira blurted, "I'm really sorry. I guess it's just all the racing that's gotten to my head. It's like I'm subconsciously telling myself that I have to go faster and faster..."

Jak whirled around to face her and put his hands on her shoulders, looking her square in the eye.

"It's okay," he said firmly but gently. "Really. No kidding. Now, can we go figure out this Blaster thing? Please?"

She searched his face. "Uh-huh..." she agreed slowly.

Sighing with relief, Jak released Keira from his grip and turned back to the gun course. He held open the door and stood to the side to allow Keira to pass through.

"Ladies first," he said. Keira's face fell sarcastically and she stuck her tongue out at him as she disappeared through the door. Jak followed, letting the door slam behind them.

"Hey, looks like we've got the place all to ourselves," Keira explained, taking the entrance room in with a glance.

"Hmm. It's usually pretty busy, especially on a nice day like this. Wonder where everyone is?" Jak added, looking around curiously. His gaze fell on the unusually deserted gun rack on the far side of the room. "And where are all the weapons?" he implored suspiciously.

"Huh. Don't know," Keira answered. "Maybe there's a 'bring your own gun' policy now."

"I doubt it. Well, let's get to business, shall we?" Jak shrugged. He couldn't help but think that the lack of weaponry and customers on a shooting range was a little odd.

"Yeah. Which way?" Keira asked, glancing at each of the two metal doors leading to different courses in turn.

"Over here," Jak replied, making his way over to the door on the north wall. "This is the Blaster course. The other one is for the Scatter Gun, so the targets are more wide ranged, but slower. This is the one that we want, though, 'cause Metal Heads aren't as slow as they appear to be on the Scatter Gun range."

The automatic doors opened, revealing a large shooting range with multi-color walls. Jak removed his Morph Gun from the holster attached to his belt and switched it to Blaster mode, the interlockable metal modifications sliding into place at a touch. He turned to Keira.

"Do you know how to hold a gun?" he asked patiently.

"I've never even touched one until yesterday," she responded.

"Okay, then that's where we'll start. Come here."

Keira obliged, and Jak handed her the gun.

"Now, what you've got to do is… no, wait, Keira... GET THAT THING AWAY FROM YOUR FACE!"

Keira hastily turned the gun around so that its barrel was pointing away from her head. _Holy yakcow,_ Jak thought. _This is going to be a long day._

"Alright. So, aside from avoiding blowing your pretty little head off, what you've got to do is take the stock in your right hand... good... and then support the barrel with your left... great, you've got it...

"Now, the trick is to keep your finger OFF of the trigger when you don't intend to use the gun."

Keira immediately removed her finger from the trigger.

"Right. Only put your hand anywhere near the trigger when you're in a situation that you've got to use the gun," Jak warned.

"Got it," she nodded.

Jak smiled. She looked so serious, standing there with a gun, hanging on every word he said... But she should be serious, he thought. Because this is a serious situation. She needs to learn how to use this thing if she is to have any chance against Metal Heads.

He sobered, the goofy smile vanishing.

He cleared his throat. "Okay. So, while you're running with the gun, always keep the stock right up close to your body. Yeah, that's it. Now, let me see you run with it."

"Huh?" she questioned, looking skeptical.

"I'm serious. Go on," Jak encouraged. "Charge at that target," he nodded at a cardboard Metal Head on the other side of the range. "Just remember to keep your hand away from the trigger."

"Sure," she replied. "Okay, here goes..."

She pushed the handle firmly against her chest and started out at a jog across the room. Jak watched, focusing on her hand placements and eye contact. If she were looking at the gun or at Jak, she would be distracted from the Metal Head, giving it the upper hand. But, to his relief, she was looking straight ahead, her eyes on the target.

She slowed her pace and stopped a few feet away from the cardboard target.

"How's that?" she asked.

"Great. You even kept your eyes on the Metal Head, something I forgot to tell you to do. Okay, come on back here," Jak praised, giving Keira a lazy high five as she jogged past him.

"Let's see. Oh, the laser point. This is how you turn it on and off," he explained, flipping a switch near the trigger back and forth, a small point of red light flickering on the far wall. "You try."

Keira hesitantly flipped the switch back and forth twice.

"Keep it on. We're moving on to aiming," Jak instructed. Keira flipped the switch back on. "This is pretty simple. Point the gun at the Metal Head and make sure that the laser is on the target."

Keira aimed carefully at the cardboard enemy, making sure the red speck of light was on its chest.

"Got it?" Jak asked. Without waiting for an answer, he went on. "Now, put your index finger on the trigger, and shoot the damn thing."

Gunshot echoed off the surrounding walls. The cardboard Metal Head had been hit and was laying in pieces on the ground.

"There you have it!" Jak cried triumphantly. "You did it. Good job."

Keira stared at the space where the Metal Head had been standing.

"Whoa," was all she could muster.

"Pretty sweet, huh?" Jak inquired. "You think you're ready to start the range up?"

"More mindless destruction? Oh yeah," she replied enthusiastically.

Content that she found so much pleasure in shooting targets, Jak sighed with relief. And he had thought that it was going to be a nightmare, teaching Keira how to handle a weapon. It was almost fun.

* * *

A few hours later, Jak and Keira sat at the base of the western wall in silence, Keira's head leaning on Jak's shoulder. They were both exhausted from the day's efforts, shooting down targets left and right. Jak had actually enjoyed today. After two runs on the course, Keira had become really good with the Blaster. So good, in fact, that Jak had allowed her a little practice with his Morph Gun's other functions. She had done well with the Vulcan Fury, but didn't seem capable of handling the Scatter Gun's powerful backfire quite as well. He wasn't planning on letting her fire the Peace Maker any time soon.

He had especially appreciated when he was teaching her how to hold the Scatter Gun with one hand. She hadn't caught on as quickly as with the Blaster, so Jak had been able to wrap his arms around her to help her hold it upright.

He smiled as he thought of this, and let his head rest gently against hers. He closed his eyes. Earlier, when they were still working with the Blaster, Keira had accidentally shot a cardboard civilian. She had dropped the gun as her hands flew to her mouth in surprise, and Jak had been there to catch it before it hit the ground. Of course, she had apologized profusely, and Jak had ended up telling her that it was okay, but she had better pay closer attention to the welfare of the gun and not do it again, _please._

Man, he was beat. He felt sleep taking him over, but managed to keep his mind floating in and out of consciousness. He heard Keira laugh shortly and jerked his head up off of hers. He had thought she was asleep.

"What's the matter?" he asked hastily.

"Nothing," she said hoarsely. From the tone of her sleepy voice, Jak could tell that she was just as exhausted as he was. "I was just thinking about how you blew the head off of that cardboard woman earlier." She laughed again. "And then you were like, 'Holy crap, she just jumped out at me..." her voice trailed off in tired laughter. It was funny how everything seemed amusing when you were this worn out.

Jak laughed back.

"Yeah," he began slowly. "Well, she did. Scared the hell out of me, too. I mean, the target sprang up about two inches from my face..."

Keira giggled and snuggled closer to Jak. He let his head rest back on hers, taking her voluntary closeness as a green light to relax. He waited for Keira to say something else, but all he heard was her soft, regular breathing. He glanced down at her face and realized that she was sound asleep. He grinned. _She's beautiful,_ he thought. _Everything about her just makes me crazy. This is like a dream. I hope I never wake up..._

With this last thought, his heavy eyelids closed and he drifted off into sleep.

* * *

"Jak?"

"Wha?"

"Hey, buddy, rise and shine..." Daxter's voice chirped as Jak's vision slowly came into focus. He lifted his head off of Keira's and squinted at the furry orange creature standing on the ground in front of them. He noticed that Dax was smiling. Not the usual smirk he wore, but a genuine, soft smile.

Jak took in his surroundings and realized the position he was in.

Sitting as straight as he could without waking Keira, Jak tried to look surprised at the fact that she had fallen asleep on his shoulder.

"Uh..." he began nervously, but Daxter just shook his head calmly.

"No need to explain, Jak. Boy, she must've been really beat," he added glancing at Keira. "I've been trying to wake one of you up for the past couple minutes. You two could sleep through a hurricane."

Jak relaxed, feeling Keira shift in her sleep.

"So, what are you doing here?" he asked conversationally.

"Jak, it's eight o' clock. Remember the meeting?" Daxter stated sarcastically.

"What? But we were only asleep... uh, I mean, resting for a few minutes! How could it be eight already?" Jak implored disbelievingly.

"Think what you want to, Jak, but it's time to go, whether you like it or not," Dax scoffed.

Jak groaned. He was still tired. He moved to get up before realizing that when he did, Keira would fall over. He would have to wake her up.

"Hey," Jak whispered gently, putting his right arm around her shoulders and pulling her closer. "Hey, wake up, Keira..."

Her eyes fluttered open halfway. She gazed sleepily at Daxter before saying, "Hi, Dax." She was still leaning on Jak, her cheek pressed against his chest.

"Hey there, Trigger Happy. I see from all the rubble that you finally got the hang of it. Congratulations," the ottsel praised cheerfully. "Listen, I'm sure you two would much rather stay here and sleep, but I believe that we have prior engagements at the Naughty Ottsel."

"What time is it?" Keira yawned, lifting her head off of Jak and stretching.

"Time for us to go get ready for that meeting. It's eight," Jak replied.

"Holy yakcow," she exclaimed, fully awake now.

"Let's get moving," he added hurriedly, getting to his feet. He brushed off the seat of his jeans and turned back to Keira, holding out a hand to help her up.

She took it and was pulled to her feet. Jak reached for his gun and placed it back in its holster. Digging into his pocket, he pulled out his keys and clutched them in his fist. Together, the three of them stumbled out into the night air.

"I hope you know that I'm driving this time," Jak warned teasingly as he swung a leg over the blue zoomer.

"I know, I know," Keira yawned, clambering onto the vehicle behind Jak and taking hold of his waist. Dax hopped up on Jak's shoulder and hung on as the zoomer roared into life and sped away, back to the two friends' hut.

* * *

Upon arriving at the seaside hut, Jak quickly removed the keys, jumped off the vehicle, and walked briskly with his friends to the door. It swung open and the three filed inside.

"Okay, I'm going to shower real quick, and Daxter's going to want to get out there early to set up shop before the others get there..." Jak announced in one breath.

"Already out the door, pal," Dax commented over his shoulder as he stood in the wide-open doorway. "Sig will be here any minute to pick me up. Oh, here he is. See you two later!" he added as he closed the door behind him.

Jak had already stripped off his gray shirt and had thrown it on his unmade bed, and Keira had grabbed a comb off of Daxter's bedside table and was now combing through her medium length blue/green hair.

"I won't be long," Jak stated as he closed the bathroom door behind him. "We'll leave just as soon as I'm out, okay?" he asked, his voice muffled by the closed door.

"Okay," Keira answered indifferently. The sound of running water, then Jak's yelp of surprise as the freezing water hit his bare skin.

Keira rolled her eyes amusedly as she switched the television on, taking a seat on the end of Jak's bed.

Five minutes later, a waterlogged Jak emerged from the bathroom, wearing his usual khakis and blue tunic, attempting to dry his golden hair with a towel.

"Ready?" he asked wearily from underneath the towel.

"As ready as I'll ever be," Keira sighed in reply. She switched the television off and got up.

Jak threw the towel on his unmade bed, a grunt of general displeasure at being hurried issuing from his throat.

The two stepped out of the hut into the cool night air. Jumping onto the streamlined zoomer again, the pair sped off in the direction of the awaiting counsel.

* * *

A/N: You know what I hate? Sheep. No, not the fluffy animal. People. People whose overall characteristics and behaviors are so reminiscent of those of a herd beast that they beg for the label. People who, if ever struck by an original idea or thought, would have a strange chemical reaction set off in their brain that would open up a flood gate to release unregulated hormones throughout their body, ultimately causing their vital organs to liquefy in their respective torsos. One person sets a trend in motion. Their motive is innocent enough; simply to set themselves apart from the rest of the flock. The proverbial black sheep. The rest of society, seeing this difference, believes that they could benefit from setting _themselves_ apart. What they fail to realize is that by doing so, they unknowingly form a small clique, that grows and grows until being "different" is now the very definition of "normal." This very theoretical situation is the root of all my problems at the moment, but it's enough to drive one mad.

But enough of that. I shall continue to revise for as long as my sanity persists.

-Alternative Delirium


	4. Chapter 4: The Underground Reunites

A/N: Extra, extra! Read all about it! Angsty teenager cuts parents up into little bite-sized jerky bits and uses them as fish bait! Catches four-foot catfish! Seriously though, I am every bit as tired of being an adolescent as most of you reading this. I have not felt like a worthwhile human being for any substantial amount of time since elementary school.

Phuck authority.

* * *

Jak pulled the zoomer up next to Sig's parked red hover car near the entrance of the Naughty Ottsel. Jak and Keira climbed off, their eyes on the enormous mechanical ottsel hanging over the door. The bright neon lights contrasted vividly with the moonless night. 

"Shall we?" Jak sighed.

Inside the saloon, Sig was sitting at the bar, his gaze fixed on the huge trophy hung on the wall behind the counter.

When Jak and Keira entered, Sig turned to face them, a broad smile spreading across his face.

"Well, if it isn't Cracker Jak and his little girlfriend. You two make a cute couple," he drawled as they made their way over to the bar.

"Hello Sig," Keira greeted exasperatedly.

"I'm just playing with your pretty little head, Keira," Sig laughed. "The others should start arriving in a few minutes. Then we'll get down to the nitty gritty. I don't know where Torn is; I thought he'd be here by now for sure. Oh well."

"Yeah, well, the sooner we get this over with the better," Jak grunted, pulling a bar stool out and flopping down.

"What's the matter, Jak?" Keira asked softly, placing her hand on Jak's shoulder and looking up into his eyes. "You haven't been real enthusiastic about this meeting, to say the least. What's wrong?"

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye.

"I don't know. I'm just tired, that's all," Jak lied, putting his head down on the bar counter for emphasis.

"Yeah, me too," Keira agreed. Jak could feel her hand move from his shoulder, up his back, and felt a pleasant tingle pass through his spine as her fingers trailed softly up the back of his neck.

He made no move to stop her gentle caressing.

It was at that moment that Jak heard the door open and felt Keira's hand leave his neck. "Don't stop..." he had wanted to say, but instead lifted his head off of the counter to see who the intruder was.

Torn had walked into the bar with Ashelin and Brutter in close pursuit. Spotting Jak, Torn smirked and made his way over the pair sitting at the counter. He pulled out a stool for himself and sat down. Ashelin and Brutter had taken seats at one of the closer corner tables.

"Long time no see," Torn grinned offering his hand to Jak.

"Hey Torn," Jak replied, grasping his comrade's hand in greeting. "It's been a while, hasn't it? How've you been these past couple months?"

"Stressed. Between making the city livable again and the usual Guard responsibilities, it's been a real pain in the ass," Torn informed, the easy grin vanishing from his face. "Especially now, with these latest attacks to sort out."

"What? You mean that Metal Heads are attacking the city..._again_?" Jak asked incredulously.

"Not directly," Torn corrected. "Most of them are still too shaken up over the defeat of their leader to set foot past the city walls. But they still have ways of hurting us from outside the city..." His voice trailed off and he shook his head.

"I don't want to have to explain this twice tonight. You'll just have to wait until the rest of the recruits get here," he finished.

Jak sighed. He wanted information now. "Did you hear that?" he asked, turning to Keira.

She was sitting on her chair backward, arms crossed, throwing a contemptuous glare at the back of Ashelin's head.

"Hmm?" she started, ripping her eyes from Ashelin and focusing on Jak's weary face. "Oh, no, sorry. I can't hear anything over this music," she apologized, gesturing at the nearest speaker on the wall that was emitting a country tune.

"Right," Jak grinned. He knew she had been trying to communicate telepathically with Ashelin the fact that she would tear Ashelin's arms off if she came within ten feet of Jak.

"I wonder where Daxter is..." Keira began, trying to cover her lie with another conversation topic.

As if on cue, Dax emerged from the back room, carrying with him a tray of various drinks. He strode expertly to the back of the counter and shoved the tray up on the bar before hopping up himself.

"Hey guys!" he chirped excitedly at the two. "How long have you been here?"

"Oh, we just got here not five minutes ago," Keira assured. "THEY just got here," she added, throwing another icy glare at Ashelin.

"So, who all's coming?" he inquired, this time directing his question at Torn.

"Tess, Grim, Jinx, Mog, a lot of the old team, a couple new recruits, and your father," Torn finished, glancing over at Keira. "Samos already knows all about our little situation, but I'm sure he'd like to be here to say a few words on the matter."

"Daddy knows? Huh. I wonder why he didn't tell me about it earlier," Keira wondered aloud.

"Probably for the same reason he didn't warn any of us about being thrown four-hundred years into the future and having to put up with any of this crap," Daxter offered sarcastically.

Keira rolled her eyes.

"Anyway, Jak, would you accompany me to the back for a moment? I may need some help bringing in the rest of the drinks," Daxter asked before Keira could jump in with any cutting remarks.

Noting the urgency of Daxter's voice, Jak immediately picked up on this hint and answered with, "Yeah, sure."

He got up from his bar stool and walked around the counter to the back of the room. Holding one finger in the air as a signal to Keira that he'd be back in a minute, Jak disappeared through the door, Daxter close on his heels.

Inside the dimly lit storage room, Jak looked around at all the crates lying on the floor. At the back of the room stood a short counter, used for mixing drinks, and a refrigerator against the back wall. On the counter were two more trays stacked with empty glasses.

"What?" Jak inquired.

"Okay, look," Daxter began in a hurried tone. "These beverages may seem a little... different, but I wanted to explain before you opened your big mouth in front of the entire crowd out there."

"Oh, my big mouth, huh?" Jak laughed. "Okay, Dax, what am I keeping MY big mouth shut over?"

"Over here," Daxter called, bounding over to the mini counter. From one of the crates he removed a yellow bottle and jumped up on the bar.

"See this?" he asked, popping the cork off of the bottle and pouring a small amount into a tall glass. "It's a Lurker brew. Pretty good stuff, I say. But the Krimzon Guard, they..." he gave a nervous laugh, "they uh, don't like it so much. In fact, you could say that they've... outlawed it."

"You're serving illegal alcohol at a Guard related function? Are you nuts? You don't know how many of these new Underground members are in the Guard, you moron. You are going to get caught!" Jak snapped, panic-stricken.

"Not if you keep your yap shut!" Dax growled. "Listen, I didn't even order this stuff on purpose. Maybe I had a little chat with Brutter regarding what kind of alcohol I should serve at the Ottsel, and maybe he gave me some advice. I don't think he knew that his favorite beer isn't legal. But I swear, I only ordered one crate of this junk, just to try it out! I don't know what happened. Unless they figured the Guard was on to them and decided to dump all the evidence on me..."

"Who's 'they'?" Jak inquired.

"A group of bootlegging Lurkers I did business with."

"Did they deliver the goods personally?"

"They must've, but I wasn't at the bar at the time. They dropped it off out back in the middle of the night sometime last week. I haven't been able to contact them to get them to get this stuff out of here, so I'm stuck with it. The best thing I can think of doing is to hurry up and drink it all."

"Why don't you just pour it out?"

"Because, lamebrain, do you see any other kind of alcoholic beverage in here? That's because my most recent order hasn't come in yet! You know, the _legal_ stuff. Basically, this Lurker crap is all I have in the way of drinks for a while. I have to serve it, otherwise get bad publicity for running short on beer in a _bar_." Daxter spat, on the brink of hysteria.

"Does Brutter know how to keep it on the down-low?" Jak scoffed.

"Yeah, he feels bad enough already about this whole thing. He won't squeal."

"How do you know that nobody else will be able to tell the difference? Sig's been in the alcohol business for a long time..." Jak warned.

"We'll just have to pray they won't," Dax sighed. "Here, don't just stand there, help me out."

"Doing what?"

"Mixing food coloring with the brew to throw off suspicion. Here," he added, throwing a little red bottle to Jak. "Three drops in each glass should take care of it. I'll pour the drinks," he ordered, pouring the yellow beverage into each glass.

Jak followed the ottsel's directions, and as he did so, the yellow drinks became a dark scarlet in color.

Mixing the last of the drinks with the coloring, Jak eyed the liquid skeptically.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked his law-breaking friend.

"It's either this or flushing my career as owner of the Ottsel right down the crapper. Do you want me to lose my job?" Daxter finished sarcastically. "C'mon. We got thirsty guests up front."

* * *

Jak and Daxter appeared behind the front counter, each carrying a tray balanced with tall glasses of disguised illegal Lurker brew. 

It looked as if a few more Underground members had arrived by the time the two reentered the room. Keira was getting acquainted with a tall, masculine elf who seemed to be very sure of himself. Jak watched as the elf leaned against the wall in a confident way, his eyes hungrily running over Keira.

Something about this scenario made Jak feel uncomfortable and somewhat jealous. He put the tray down, a little harder than he had meant to, and stalked over to the two.

As he approached, he tried his best to look indifferent.

"Hey," he directed at Keira. She turned around to him, a guilty smile present on her face.

"Hey Jak. Bane was just telling me about an interesting incident he had with a Metal Head," Keira explained.

"Was he?" Jak interjected, looking the latter up and down. "Bane, was it?" he stretched out a hand slowly. The elf was also eyeing Jak, and hesitantly took Jak's hand.

"Bane, this is Jak, he's a friend of mine. Jak, Bane was in the Underground when it first originated. I think he'll be a great asset to our team, don't you?" Keira introduced.

Releasing Jak's hand, Bane took a step back and again looked him up and down.

"So you're the Dark Warrior that saved the city, huh?" he commented.

"You could say that," Jak replied coolly.

"Well, it's an honor to meet you, Jak," Bane added with a slight nod of his head.

"Likewise," Jak stated, only half sincere. Then, focusing back on Keira, he continued, "Can I buy you a drink?"

"No thanks. I think I'll just have Dax get me a soda from the back, if that's okay," Keira answered, much to Jak's disappointment.

"Dax?" Bane questioned, confused.

"Oh, you haven't met Daxter yet. Come on, let me introduce you," Keira offered cheerfully.

"Uh..." Jak began, but was ignored. The two had already left his side for the counter. Jak almost growled.

He flopped down at a table located at the far end of the room and let his head hit the surface with a thud. He knew he should trust Keira, but after the Erol incident, he wasn't sure if he could bring himself to.

"Something troubling you, my boy?" a deep voice inquired.

Jak looked up sharply. Samos Hagai, the Green Sage, had sat down at the side of the table opposite Jak.

"Whoa, Samos, I didn't hear you come in," Jak started, surprised. "No, I'm fine. Just beat, that's all."

"I see," Samos nodded vaguely. "Then you'll be wanting this little fiasco over with, so that you can go home?"

"Yeah, actually," Jak replied, a bit startled at Samos' ability to see right through him. "You know, that really freaks me out when you do that."

Samos chuckled.

"Hang in there, Jak. The rest of us should be here soon enough. Then you can go rest," he finished, sliding off of the end of the bench and trekking over to the counter to greet Sig.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, the majority of the new Underground had congregated in the Naughty Ottsel. Many of its members had already consumed a glass or two of Daxter's Lurker beer. Much to the rodent's relief, nobody had had any queries about the beverage. 

"So far, so good," Dax commented under his breath as he swept past Jak, another tray in hand.

"Ahem, may I have your attention!" Torn had climbed up on the counter and now faced the audience of twenty-seven.

"About time," Jak whispered to Keira, who had abandoned Bane minutes earlier to rejoin Jak. She nodded in agreement.

"Welcome, recruits both new and experienced. I know that most of you are wondering why we're here tonight, and all will be explained in due time. I think it's only fair to first thank you all for coming, as the tone of this meeting is urgent. I'm also going to regretfully thank Whiskers the rat here..." At this Torn pointed down at Daxter, who muttered under his breath and made a rude hand gesture at the tattooed elf.

"...For allowing the Underground to meet here in his saloon. Now, I'm sure you're all aware of the past situation regarding Metal Heads."

This was met with several nods of affirmation and a wave of mumbled speech.

"As you know, it was one of our own that finally destroyed Kor, the Metal Head leader." He pointed above his head to the trophy. "It so happens that we have that man with us tonight. Jak, I'd like to make a toast," Torn continued, raising a glass of the Lurker brew in his right hand.

"To Jak. If it weren't for you, we'd all still be under the rule of that tyrant Praxis. No offense, Ashelin," he added hastily, gazing apologetically at the former Baron's daughter. She smiled warmly and waved a hand dismissively. Laughter broke out amongst the group, then applause directed at Jak.

Jak was shocked that Torn had given him any recognition at all. When he came back to his senses, he smiled genuinely and raised a hand to cease the clapping.

"That said, I'm pressed to deliver the bad news," Torn stated flatly.

The room grew quiet.

"In the process of defeating the Metal Head army, we ordered a breach on the nest. To get there, we had to create an opening in the barrier that surrounds the safe hold. Long story short, we blew a hole in the stone wall the size of Jak's reputation. Jak took care of business, but Metal Heads came pouring out from that open door as sure as anything. We have a situation, ladies and gentlemen. The Metal Head army is regrouping."

A stunned silence followed, save for a few scattered sharp intakes of breath.

"Our sources have spotted several platoons of various breeds in and around the strip mine. Those creatures strive on eco, and the city's eco supply is pumped in from the strip mine. We observed them for a few weeks, and scouts confirm that the Metal Heads are hell-bent on attacking our supply. If they succeed in doing so, the shield walls around Haven City will drop, once again making the city vulnerable to attack.

"Now, there aren't as many of these monsters left after their last siege on the city. I'd say their army has been cut in half, at least. But there are still enough out there to cause some panic. Not that you should," he assured. "Because I'm more than confident that we, together, can overcome this without any casualties. Understand we will have to be careful. Metal Heads are dangerous creatures. They won't think twice about ripping you in half. But supplied with the right training and equipment, everyone here has a one hundred percent chance of survival."

Keira shuddered. Jak could see that Torn's speech was making her very uncomfortable. Without thinking, Jak instinctively wrapped his right arm around her waist and pulled her in close. She made no objection.

"You will be assigned a group. There will be three groups of nine, each with a designated code name and an appointed head. The head of each party will be in charge of decisive action in times of peril. Any questions?"

Daxter hopped up on the counter next to Torn.

"Yeah, I got one," he snarled. "How come you keep mentioning Jak saving the city and I haven't heard my name once? I was the orange thing on his shoulder helping him take on Praxis AND Kor, remember?"

"Are there any REAL questions?" Torn sighed exasperatedly.

Daxter crossed his arms and glowered at Torn.

"Why are Metal Heads making an offensive at all? I've gathered that they're regrouping, but you forgot to mention why. Or is attacking cities for fun just a hobby they've come to like?" Jak snapped.

Many heads turned at the sound of his voice. Torn remained quiet for a moment, looking at Jak thoughtfully. After a short while, he finally answered hesitantly.

"That's something we don't know for certain, Jak. All we can figure is that they don't take to losing a war too kindly. It's just like their species to rebound and attack again and again until one side is wiped out completely. It's a good thing we defeated their army the first time around. Now we have the upper hand."

"Okay, then explain why their attacks are so organized now. You said you've seen _platoons_ of Metal Heads surrounding the strip mine. If I remember correctly, Metal Heads have the tendency to assault at random. I've never seen much cooperation between the creatures, much less sighted them marching in a structured group," Jak returned.

At this, Torn visibly paled.

He cleared his throat and quickly replied, "Well, maybe they've realized that they don't have a chance if they stick with old traditions. Look where it's landed them. With a beheaded leader and half of what their race used to be."

"I don't think..." Jak began, but Keira elbowed him in the ribs gently. "Hey!" He shouted. Rubbing his right side with his free hand, he glared at her. "What the hell..."

"Shut up," she hissed. " Can't you see he doesn't want you bringing that up in front of the whole Underground?"

"Well, why not?" he whispered back venomously. "They have a right to know what they're getting into..."

She placed a finger on his lips.

"I don't think the Underground's ready for whatever he's got to say," she explained in an apologetic tone.

Jak searched her face. She looked sincere. He released her from his glare and fixed his eyes back on Torn.

He was in the midst of wishing the new Underground good luck with the Metal Heads in finishing his speech.

"Samos, is there anything you would like to add?" Torn asked.

"I think you've touched all the bases, Torn. But thank you," the Sage replied politely.

"Then, if you'd be so kind as to begin the grouping..." Torn commented as he jumped off of the counter.

"Alright, everybody, listen up!" Samos shouted. "When I call your category, please come to the front, where I will assign your party. All new recruits who haven't been through training yet, please step forward..."

Nine members made their way to the front counter. As Samos explained to them their group name and leader, Daxter hopped off of the counter and bounded over to Jak and Keira.

"Aren't you a new recruit?" Daxter questioned, leaping up on Keira's shoulder.

"I don't know. I suppose I am, but I've already had some training with a gun. Kind of..." she grinned up at Jak, who returned her smile.

"Oh, right," Dax chirped. "And I suppose now you're a real crack-shot with that peashooter after one whole day."

"Hey, you saw the mess she made of those targets," Jak jumped to Keira's defense.

"True. Well, here's hoping that you make our team," Daxter made an attempt to redeem himself.

"Thanks, Dax," Keira reached up and rubbed the ottsel's ears.

Samos had finished talking to the first group and was now walking amongst the remaining members with a clipboard, assigning each individual to their party. He was gradually making his way towards the three of them from the other side of the room.

"What do you suppose our first assignment will be?" Keira inquired lightly.

"Knowing Torn, he'll probably start us off with some sort of impossible suicide mission," Daxter remarked coolly, leaning against Keira's head and studying his left paw nonchalantly.

"What Dax means is," Jak corrected, noting the sudden look of panic on Keira's face, "Torn will most likely have us go scout for Metal Heads out at the strip mine or something. Nothing too bad." He knocked Daxter over the head as he added, "Not that it won't present somewhat of a challenge."

"You think maybe we should work a little more with the Morph Gun before heading out on a mission? I could probably do with a bit more practice..." Keira asked, trying to keep her voice from sounding too shaky.

"Of course. Whatever makes you feel more comfortable," Jak reassured.

"Okay, Jak and Daxter, you two are over there with Storm Fleet, party two," Samos interrupted. He had finally reached their corner of the bar, and was now pointing toward a group huddled by the counter. "Keira, Torn has you down for Harbor Convoy, party three," he added, now directing his hand toward several members, including Bane, who appeared to be lounging by the western wall.

"Oh. I was hoping that we would all end up in the same team," Keira replied, motioning at her two friends. "See, because..."

Samos closed his eyes and held up a hand to quiet her.

"I know honey, but Torn is the one in charge of placing parties. Don't shoot the messenger," he returned. With that, he moved on to another part of the bar to divide up the remaining stragglers.

Keira watched her father go, and then turned her face up to Jak. He scowled.

"This blows," he commented. "Hang tight for a minute, I'll be right back."

"Jak, what are you..." she began, but he had already made up his mind. Daxter hopped off of Keira's shoulder and followed his friend across the room.

Jak caught sight of Torn, now talking lightly with Ashelin near the door.

"Hey, can I have a word with you?" Jak asked Torn as he approached.

Both Torn and Ashelin turned in his direction. The conversational smile left Torn's lips as he nodded and rose to his feet.

"You know I'm not at liberty to say anything more concerning the attacks right now," Torn whispered defensively.

"We'll talk about that later," Jak dismissed. "Right now I'm more concerned with your grouping techniques."

"What about them?"

"How is it that you remembered to stick Dax with me," Jak jabbed a thumb at the ottsel that was now perched on his left shoulder. "But left Keira out of the equation?"

Jak didn't like the smug look Torn was giving him.

"C'mon. What are you, two years old? Is little Jak upset because he got separated from his friends?" Torn smirked.

"Will you cut it out?" Jak snapped.

"Grow up," Torn instructed.

"It's not like that. The only reason I even brought it up is because..." Jak began angrily, but stopped himself just in time.

"Yeah?" Torn urged.

"Well," Jak continued, glancing up at Dax, who was giving him a worried, knowing look. "Keira's always been a close friend. I've known her since we were kids back in Sandover. I would never forgive myself if anything happened to her... Look. I've sort of promised myself that I'd look after her, just in case. Would you consider transferring her to our team so that I can keep that promise?"

Jak paused, looking for any sign on Torn's face that may signify that he was winning him over. He had the sinking feeling that Torn had already guessed the real reason for Jak's overprotective attitude on the matter. After thinking it over for a moment in silence, Torn finally answered.

"Done. You've got the responsibility of deciding who you're going to swap her with, though."

"Why me?"

"Because, genius, you're Storm Fleet's leader. You didn't really expect anything less, did you?" Torn grinned.

"Well, I hadn't been counting on it," Jak replied, slightly shocked.

"Please," Torn rolled his eyes. "You're the most experienced and well-known fighter here. Besides," he added in a praising tone. "You're the best thing to hit the Underground since the Shadow himself."

Jak allowed a grateful smile to show through his baffled expression.

"Thanks, Torn. That really means a lot," he stated modestly.

"Yeah, well, I'm serious. You're the real deal, Jak. Just make sure you keep on impressing me."

"You can bet on it," Jak returned. He turned and headed back to Keira, noting the suspicious look she was eyeing him with.

"Sheesh, that was close," Daxter sighed.

"What was close? What did you two do?" Keira hastily inquired as Jak leaned against the counter.

"Welcome to team Storm Fleet," Jak announced casually.

"Wow. What'd you say to Torn to make him change his mind?"

"Uh... Not much. I just... we... uh..." Jak stuttered, rubbing the back of his neck uncomfortably and trying his hardest not to make eye contact with her.

Knowing well what a terrible liar Jak was, Daxter cut in.

"We just told him that we'd all feel more comfortable if we were all on the same party," he interrupted.

"Yeah. Right. What Dax said," Jak saved himself the trouble of going into detail by agreeing.

"Really? Huh. Well, thank you, Jak," she added thankfully.

"Any time," Jak confirmed with a gentle smile.

"Uh, Jak, you may want to let Harbor Convoy know that we're taking their team's prettiest member," Daxter reminded.

"Oh, right. Dax, why don't you go get Keira that soda she requested, and I'll take care of that business. I'll be back in a few," Jak directed at Keira. Daxter hopped off of Jak's shoulder and slid the length of the counter in the direction of the back room.

Jak wandered over to a group huddled by the stripper ring.

"Excuse me," he addressed a gangly elf dressed much like himself. "Who's in charge here?"

The elf called over his shoulder at one of his comrades. Another elf stepped forward to take his place next to Jak. It took a while for Jak to recognize Jinx without his red bandana pulled up over his face.

A welcoming smile spread over the latter's face.

"Well if it isn't Pretty Boy," Jinx greeted happily. The smile left his face almost immediately, a sheepish expression replacing it. "Uh, sorry about that statue, Jak. I was just following orders. Business is business, you know," he apologized.

Jak grinned, remembering the statue of Mar that Krew had instructed Jinx and two others to blow up.

"No harm done. That Heart of Mar came in handy in the end," Jak forgave. "Listen, Storm Fleet's taking Keira. You can have whoever you want from us, but I've made arrangements with Torn to swap with Harbor Convoy," he added, his voice taking a serious tone.

"Keira? Who's that? Oh, you mean that hot little Sheila with the green hair? Yeah, she's a rookie, isn't she? What do you want with her?" Jinx asked.

"We're friends. Close friends. I've promised that I'd have her back during assignments, because she's new to this. So, who do you want?" Jak explained quickly.

"Eh, just give us Mog. He's about worthless and has the brains of an intelligent rock. He's useless to you, but unfortunately, we understand each other enough to get along," Jinx shrugged.

"Done." Jak stretched out a hand as a sign of finalization. Jinx grasped it and added, "Great to see you again. Good luck with this new wave of Metal Heads. Not that you need luck." he grinned.

"Thanks. You too," Jak replied. Turning from his old acquaintance, he weaved his way back to the counter.

Keira was stirring her soda with a straw absentmindedly when Jak returned.

"How's it hanging?" Jak asked playfully.

"I'm ready for bed, to tell you the truth," Keira answered, keeping her eyes on the swirling beverage.

"Tired, huh? Me too," Jak agreed as Keira nodded.

"Ahem." Torn cleared his throat loudly. He was now standing at the front of the bar again, waiting for everyone to quiet down. "If there are no further questions, then I believe this meeting has come to a close. We will contact you when you are needed for task. I'm sure you're all welcome to stay for a few more drinks, but then again, Fuzzy and his buddies may want to get to bed sometime tonight, so try not to hang around too long. Thank you all again for coming, and have a nice evening." Torn left the spotlight, heading toward Ashelin to help her with her jacket.

"I should probably stay around here for Dax, but I think I have time to take you home, if you want," Jak offered Keira.

Keira shook her head.

"No, if you two are going to stick it out here, I'll hang around too."

"C'mon, honey. You just said that you're tired..." Jak urged.

"I am, but it's not fair to you guys if I leave," she returned stubbornly. She began yawn, but immediately closed her mouth, realizing her mistake.

"You're about to fall asleep in that soda," Jak teased with a grin. "Let's get you home so that you can pass out on your bed."

"Are you sure? I don't want you to have to run around more than necessary..." Keira questioned hesitantly.

"Absolutely. I'll have time to drop you off and then come back here later to pick Dax up. He can manage without me for a while." Jak nodded at the ottsel leaning against the far wall, talking with Tess. Jak had no doubt that Daxter was telling yet another tall tale of his creation to the pretty blonde. And from the looks of things, she was buying it.

Keira stood up.

"Alright, you win," she yawned. "Just let me tell Daddy good night."

She took off in the direction of the corner table where Samos was discussing various plants and their medical uses with Brutter. Jak took the opportunity to let Daxter know where he was going.

"Pardon my interruption," Jak began sarcastically when he had reached the far wall. "But I'm taking Keira home. I'll swing back here later to pick you up, okay Dax?"

"Yeah, sure, buddy. Take your time," Daxter replied. Jak rolled his eyes. The longer he took, the more time his furry friend would have to flirt with Tess.

He caught up with Keira at the door. She smiled wearily at him as he held the door open for her.

The pair walked slowly through the tiny parking lot to Jak's zoomer. They climbed on, and Jak pulled the keys from his pocket, starting the ignition. Keira took hold of his waist, wrapping both arms tightly around him. He felt her forehead rest sleepily on the small of his back and smiled warmly as the vehicle lurched forward and made an abrupt left turn.

* * *

Ten minutes later, Jak brought the zoomer to a halt in front of a beautifully constructed mahogany house inside the part of the city once known as the slums. After the removal of Baron Praxis from the throne, Torn and his Krimzon Guard had immediately begun the rebuilding of Haven from all the years of decay it had suffered at the hands of the tyrant's rule, starting with this area. It was now lined with decent housing, and Keira had been offered this two-story hut as compensation for her part in restoring the city to a livable state. She had accepted gratefully, as her older home of the past two years was no more than an apartment near the racetrack. Rent had been hard to scrape, being a mechanic whose only love was for racing. The thought of a pre-paid-for hut such as this one was more than tempting. 

Jak waited for Keira to jump off, following suit as she slid out of the seat. Keira felt her pockets, searching unfocusedly for her keys. She finally retrieved them and wordlessly climbed the stairs to her front door. Jak walked her to the door, watching as she fumbled with the keyhole groggily. As the lock clicked into place, the sound of deep barking could be heard from the opposite side of the door. Keira swung the door open, and the two of them entered the house, greeted by Dawg.

"Oh, shut up, you crazy mutt," Keira grumbled sleepily. Nonetheless, she bent down and scratched the croca-dog behind the ears affectionately as he leapt up, placing his paws on her knees.

Jak grinned. Dawg hadn't wanted anything to do with Keira (or anyone else for that matter) only a matter of months ago. But Jak had had so much to do to keep him on his feet, he didn't have the time or energy to look after him. So, Keira had agreed to take him for a while and work with him to make him more sociable. She had trouble with the mean dog for a while, but her kindness and persistence had finally won him over.

Dawg now ran circles around Jak, happy to see his friend again.

"Hey there, pooch," Jak acknowledged, he too giving in to the urge to rub the dog's head. "Is this lady taking care of you?" he added teasingly.

"He's always got to be the center of attention," Keira grinned. "But he needs a bath," she commented, making a face.

"Uh-oh," Jak smiled. "I don't think he's ever had that pleasure before. You might need some help with that, considering his record for making attempts on people's lives. How about I come over tomorrow and help you hose him down?" Jak offered.

Keira crouched down over Dawg. He lay down and rolled over, exposing his stomach. Keira humored the dog, rubbing his furry chest.

"You wouldn't hurt a fly, would you Dawg?" she asked. Dawg cocked his head.

"But maybe you're right. He might not like getting wet, and I may need some extra muscle to hold him down. Alright, how's noon sound?" Keira added, looking up at Jak.

"Great. I'll be here," he grinned, satisfied. "Oh," he stated, glancing at the clock that hung over the fireplace. "I'd better get. Dax will have a yakcow if I leave him hanging much longer. See you tomorrow, then." He looked down at the content dog at his feet. "And you too, mutt. Whether you like it or not."

Keira stood and slid in close to Jak. Reaching her arms around his neck, she embraced him warmly for a moment. He returned the hug, slightly surprised at the unprovoked stir of emotions.

"Thanks for bringing me home, Jak," she whispered, her head resting on his shoulder.

"No problem," Jak responded quietly.

Keira broke the embrace, pulling away slowly.

"I'll see you later," she yawned.

Jak reached for the doorknob.

"Yeah. Good night, Keira."

The door opened, and Jak walked out into the night. Keira stood in the doorway, waiting for Jak to speed back off to the pub. He swung a leg over the parked zoomer, turned the ignition, and pulled out.

Jak looked back over his shoulder as the zoomer headed back toward the Naughty Ottsel. There in the doorway, Jak could make out Keira's outline, waving with Dawg at her feet. He smiled, knowing that his highlight of the following day would be wrestling a soap covered croca-dog in Keira's front yard.

* * *

A/N: Ho-boy. I do not have an excuse for not updating. I'm moving away from platformers, as this seems to be their off-season. But I am trying to get myself motivated to finish this little story of mine up. I made a promise, and I've broken too many recently to not feel guilty about this one. So. My apologies, once again. 

God, I hate reality T.V.

-Alternative Delirium


	5. Chapter 5: Dawg Wash

A/N: Well, I'm losing what little sanity I have left. Here's my scenario: My boyfriend is my world. (Yup, I'm one of those pathetic losers whose life revolves around the guy I'm in love with. So sue me.) Said boyfriend is in Florida. Has been for a week; won't be back till next week. One day after he comes home, I leave state for a week.

I swear. If there is a God, the first thing I'm doing when I meet him is kick him in the nuts.

Anyway, here's the revision.

* * *

Jak awoke late again the next morning.

He had been exhausted the night before, and would have liked nothing better than to fall onto his welcoming mattress and let sleep consume him. As soon as he closed his eyes, however, a vision of the previous night's dream flashed in his mind.

Terrified of having to relive that nightmare, Jak forced himself awake. He stared at the ceiling, listening to Daxter's soft, regular breathing for almost twenty minutes before his eyelids closed of their own account. He lay in this state of rest for a few moments in silence without realizing his mistake.

In his dreaming mind, Jak envisioned Keira. He saw her laughing face at the gun course earlier that day, the hurt look she had worn when Jak refused her his zoomer keys, the shocked look on her face when she dropped Jak's Morph Gun during practice. He again reached out to brush away a lock of her soft hair from her face, as it had fallen from behind her ear while she slept on his shoulder at the shooting range. Then, her horrified expression as Jak's alter ego viciously stuck out at her with five-inch talons.

Jak forced his eyes open. _'No...'_ he thought. _'Don't you let yourself surrender to that nightmare. Don't let it win...'  
_  
Jak rolled over, thinking how to keep himself awake. He pushed his sheets down and rose to a sitting position. Face in hands, Jak concentrated on bringing his mind to a fully conscious state.

_'I can't fight sleep forever... I just need to find something else to focus on other than that dream.'_

He looked around the room, racking his brain for something to keep him busy. He faced the window, the reflections of stars in the lake nearby catching his eye. The gentle lapping of waves on the shoreline mesmerized his drowsy mind, and soon, he had slumped over in a regretful sleep.

Now, Jak gasped as he opened his eyes, realizing that he had let himself fall asleep. His gaze flew to the window, quickly noting the sun's light shining through its glass. Morning? Had he survived the night without having to face off with that dream? His mind reeled, trying to refocus on last night's dreaming contents. He drew a blank, as if he hadn't dreamt at all the previous night. He sighed. _'Thank God...'_ he thought.

"Jak, get your ass in here! Your eggs are getting cold..." Daxter called from the kitchen.

Jak rubbed his forehead as he propped himself up on one elbow. Glancing at the alarm clock set on snooze on the bedside table, Jak did a double take. 11:14 a.m.

"Damn it..." Jak grumbled, flinging his covers down and stumbling into a standing position. He had forty-six minutes to eat, dress, and run across town to Keira's place.

He yanked open a drawer on the bedside table and pulled out a folded pair of carpenter jeans and a white t-shirt. Quickly, he changed into them, throwing yesterday's garments on the floor. He shoved on his boots, ran a comb through his tousled hair, and jogged into the kitchen.

Daxter was lounging in a wooden chair, his ottsel feet propped up on the table, the morning's newspaper in his hands.

"Well, glad to see you've finally decided to grace the world with your presence," the furry rodent remarked icily. "What took you so long? Did you have trouble putting your _pants_ on?"

Jak grinned. Daxter always found a way to work the word "pants" into any conversation, no matter the topic.

"You know it," Jak replied teasingly. "Listen, I'm outta here in ten minutes. You think you can manage not burning the house down for a few hours?"

"Where are you going? Got another date with your girlfriend?" Dax asked, a mischievous smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

"Something like that. If you want to call rolling around in the mud and getting your leg bit off by a wet croca-dog a date, then sure," Jak retaliated, grabbing the iron skillet from the stovetop and shoveling its contents of egg onto a plate.

Daxter's eyes widened.

"Brother, I don't want to know what the hell you two have been doing. But that sure don't sound like anything I've ever seen on T.V. before..." Daxter pointed accusingly at Jak.

Jak couldn't hide his amused grin at his dirty-minded friend's words.

"Oh yeah, we'll be wrestling all around her front yard..." Jak pursued the issue playfully. He was trying to see how much he could freak Daxter out before telling him that they were just washing Dawg. "There are gonna be bubbles everywhere..."

"Okay, will you cut it out? It's your own business what you two do together, but that doesn't mean you have to go through every detail with me. And may I say, this visual that you're presenting me with is wrong. Very wrong," the orange critter shuddered. Jak noticed that his left eye was twitching from disgust.

"You are a sick, sick little animal Daxter. Keira and I are just going to be giving Dawg a bath. She needs some help because otherwise, she's going to have a few detached appendages by the time he's wet," Jak explained, the amused smile still present on his face.

"Oh, good. Now I'm scarred for life. Thanks a lot buddy, I owe you one," Dax remarked sarcastically.

Jak laughed as he sat down at the table.

"You have issues, Dax. You should see someone about that."

"Take a look in the mirror, pal. Seriously, on the front lawn?" Dax frowned. "Where'd you come up with that one?"

"We're just washing the dog," Jak urged, taking his now empty plate to the sink.

"You've said enough already. I'm done discussing it. You say one more word about it and I swear, my head's gonna explode from information overload," Daxter snapped, making a face.

"Whatever. I'm gone," Jak called over his shoulder, pocketing his keys and making his way over to the door. "Bye."

Daxter waved a hand lazily as Jak opened the door and stepped outside.

He began to close the door behind him, then reopened it and stuck his head back inside.

"To wash the dog," he added quickly, pulling his head out and closing the door. He saw Dax cover his ears and shut his eyes as if protecting himself from Jak's words.

Jak laughed again as he made his way to the blue zoomer parked near the hut.

* * *

Jak jogged up the steps to Keira's front door. He smoothed his shirt and knocked. 

"Oh, thank God," Keira's muffled voice sighed from the other side. "The door's unlocked, come on in Jak!"

Jak grinned as he turned the knob and swung the door open.

"Hey," he greeted, shutting the door behind him. "What seems to be the problem?"

He caught sight of Dawg's nose poking out from under the sofa.

"I cannot get him out from under there!" Keira explained exasperatedly. "I've been trying to coax him out with his squeaky toys, dog treats, everything I can think of. He just won't move!"

Jak gave her a lopsided grin.

"What?" Keira laughed, noting the goofy smile.

"What did you do to my dog?"

"I didn't do anything!" Keira stated emphatically.

Jak crouched down so that he was level with the croca-dog.

"Hey pal, what's the matter?" Jak asked the dog soothingly.

At this, Dawg's nose disappeared from view as he jerked it under the couch. Jak laughed.

"C'mon, pooch. Let's get this over with, alright? You're getting a bath one way or another. I'd hate to have to pull you out from under there by your ears..." Jak threatened.

"Oh, Jak, don't hurt him!" Keira pleaded.

"Hurt him?" Jak asked incredulously, keeping his gaze on the stubborn dog under the sofa. "You can't hurt Dawg. He's built like a tank. He's like a roach, only smellier."

Keira chuckled.

"Here, maybe this'll work..." Jak got up from his crouching position and walked back to the door. On a coat hook to the left hung a red leash. He yanked it down, dangling it from his right hand. Opening the door, Jak turned back to the black nose that was again visible from under the beige sofa.

"Come here Dawg!" Jak called in mock urgency. "Hurry! Let's get out of here before Keira gives you a bath!"

An excited bark escaped from under the couch. Dawg came barreling out, headed straight for the wide open door. Jak quickly snatched the croca- dog's collar as he dashed past him, bringing him to a sudden and full stop. Dawg gave a surprised yip as he hit the end of his collar.

"Gotcha," Jak commented victoriously as he snapped the leash onto the dog's matching collar. "Sorry 'bout that, boy, but you really reek." Dawg gazed up at Jak with a look of utmost disgust.

Keira folded her arms across her chest and raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, sure. Make me the bad guy," she joked. "Not like you're going to be helping at all or anything..."

Jak shrugged, a coy grin on his face.

"It worked, didn't it?" he countered.

Keira shook her head slowly, turning to grab the shampoo and towel she had prepared for Dawg.

"Take him out front. I'll go find his brush..." Keira instructed. Jak looked down at the green dog sitting disdainfully at his feet.

"Wow mutt, sounds like you're getting a full makeover. Let's just hope she doesn't break out the pink ribbon..."

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, the garden hose had been successfully hooked up to the side of the hut, and Keira and Jak were facing off with an angry croca-dog tied to the metal ground peg on the front lawn. 

"Would you like to do the honors?" Keira asked, handing Jak the hose and stepping back.

"Yeah, I'd better. Okay, Dawg, prepare to get wet..." Jak announced, turning the nozzle so that a gentle stream of water spouted from the tip.

Dawg growled menacingly. His expression said his thoughts: _'You two must really be in a hurry to part with this world. Go ahead. Spray me. We'll see if you're lucky enough to come out of this with all ten fingers...'  
_  
Jak pointed the hose at the frustrated dog, sending its jet of water directly at Dawg's torso. As the water hit his side, the mutt yelped in shock and sprang to the side, baring his teeth.

"Hey, cool it Lizard Breath. You corporate and this'll be over before you know it. You play tough and try to bite my arm off, it's gonna get messy. Choose wisely," Jak called to the dog.

"Jak, do you really think he understands you?" Keira asked sarcastically.

"He's smarter than you'd think," Jak replied.

"I'm sure. Let's just get this done, shall we?" she urged.

Jak took a step closer to the dog. Dawg stood his ground and growled in his throat.

"C'mon pooch. You know me. I'm not going to hurt you. Unless you provoke me..." Jak kept his voice low and calm in the hope of soothing the dog to a subdued manner.

Keira raised her eyebrows at this threatening comment.

"Jak, you're gonna tick him off," she warned.

Jak ignored her. Taking another step towards Dawg, he held the hose in the croca-dog's direction. Turning the nozzle to a more powerful stream of water, Jak aimed for the dog's head. It hit its mark, and the dog yelped again in surprise.

"Oh Jak, you're hurting him!" Keira complained, throwing a sympathetic glance at the soaking dog cowering at the end of his leash.

"No I'm not, he's just being obstinate. Relax," Jak rebutted, the jet of water still pummeling the annoyed animal.

"Okay, he's wet already! Shut it off," Keira demanded, pulling the hose from Jak's hand and turning the nozzle off.

Dawg peeked with one eye to see if he was out of danger. Seeing Keira heading toward him with a bottle of shampoo, he whimpered.

"Poor Dawg," she soothed as she crouched down next to the wet creature. "Did mean old Jak about drown you?" She threw Jak a contemptuous glare.

Jak rolled his eyes, an exasperated smile on his face.

"All that's left now is a nice rub down and then a _gentle _rinse," Keira explained to the waterlogged canine.

She rubbed Dawg behind his wet ears and popped the top of the bottle open. Applying the shampoo, she massaged the dog lovingly until suds appeared on his fur.

"Okay, Jak, spray away," she called, standing up and backing away from the line of fire.

She yelped in shock as a stream of water hit her on the back of the neck. She froze for a second, then whirled around to face her attacker. Jak quickly hid the hose behind his back and tried to look innocent.

"What?" he questioned playfully, a guilty grin beginning to make itself visible.

"You did NOT just do that," Keira yelled heatedly.

"Do what? I don't know what you're talking about," Jak grinned.

"Oh, that's it. You're in for it now..." she warned, her own mischievous smile showing through her surprise. She took off towards him in the intent of knocking him to the ground.

"Oh, spray the _dog_! I thought you meant you!" Jak laughed as Keira dived at him. He fumbled with the nozzle, sending another jet of water in her direction. She screamed and turned away from the cold water, wrapping her arms around herself.

"Jak, that's freezing!" she screeched.

"Really? Hmm. How about this?" he asked sarcastically, flipping the nozzle to "straight shot."

"JAK!" she yelled, her voice cracking with laughter. "Cut it out!"

She lunged at him again, tackling him and knocking him to the ground. Jak landed on his back, Keira on top of him. She shook the wet bangs out of her eyes and straddled his chest.

"Now what?" Jak laughed.

Keira reached for the bottle of dog shampoo and held it upside down over Jak's head threateningly.

"Give up?" she asked, a wild look of determination in her eyes.

"Not on your life," Jak responded teasingly.

Keira squeezed the bottle, shampoo dripping into Jak's golden hair.

"Hey!" Jak yelled, struggling to get free of Keira's grip. She threw the bottle aside and began to run her hands through his hair, creating suds.

"HA!" she exclaimed victoriously, leaning back to admire her handiwork. "What say you now, brave warrior?"

"I say you look good wet," Jak replied playfully, running his own hands through his soapy hair and wiping the bubbles off in Keira's.

"Ahh!" she yelled, her hands flying to her hair to protect it from any further torment. Seeing his opportunity, Jak rolled over, tossing Keira off of him long enough to scramble away. He got to his feet and searched frantically for the garden hose.

"Looking for something?" Keira questioned, a slightly evil tone to her voice. Jak looked up sharply, noting that Keira held the hose loosely in her left hand. Jak's mouth fell open to reply, but nothing came to mind.

"Oh yeah?" he stuttered. "Well... I... so what?"

Keira tightened her grip on the nozzle, pointing it directly at Jak's chest.

"Surrender or face certain soakage!" she laughed.

"You'll never take me alive!" Jak shouted mock dramatically. He dived out of the way just as water shot from the hose.

"Hold still, you!" Keira giggled chasing after Jak with the hose.

Meanwhile, Dawg had been watching the pair of them chasing one another all over the now muddy yard as if they had lost their minds. But as Keira followed Jak right past Dawg, he leapt out in front of her, his leash acting as a tripwire. Keira fell over the taut leash, landing on her back. She lay there, dazed, until Jak's handsome face appeared over her.

"I told you he was smart," he remarked, smiling.

Keira's shocked expression changed to a smug grin. Still lying on her back, she pointed the nozzle of the hose at Jak's face. Nothing happened. She glanced, confused, at the end of the nozzle.

"He's not the only one..." Jak grinned, holding up the other end of the hose in his right hand.

"Smart ass," she snapped, throwing the hose aside.

"Now," Jak began in a civil tone. He crouched down over Keira so that he was a foot away from her face. "Are you going to surrender or am I going to have to get Dawg after you again?"

"I surrender. You win. Happy?" she sighed.

"Ha ha ha! I am The Dominator!" Jak laughed, throwing his arms above his head in triumph.

"So, does it make you feel powerful, being able to beat up a poor defenseless little country girl?" Keira asked derisively.

"Okay, number one: I didn't beat you up. Number two: You were definitely _not _defenseless. And number three: When that poor little country girl is you, yes. Yes it does." Jak replied.

"Does that mean we have a truce now?" Keira asked hopefully.

"Sure, and as a peace offering..." Jak began, holding out his hand to help her to her feet.

Pulling her upright, Jak slipped his arms around her waist in a gentle embrace. Keira, surprised but pleased with his sudden affectionate manner, drew her arms up over Jak's head and around his neck. Jak smiled warmly as Keira searched his face, slightly confused.

"You have the prettiest eyes I've ever seen," Jak offered, his eyes locked with hers.

"Well, thank..." Keira began smilingly, but was cut short. Jak leaned in, eyes closed, and pressed his lips against Keira's.

Keira tilted her head slightly as she let her eyes close in a wave of emotion. Jak pulled her closer to his body, his arms tightening around her as if he was prepared to hold her forever and never let go.

Jak slowly pulled away, his eyes opening to search Keira apprehensively, immediately hoping that she wouldn't find him too forward.

She allowed her eyes to flutter open halfway. She was breathing heavily, her heart pounding in her chest. She gazed up at Jak through emerald eyes.

"That'll work..." she gasped quietly, referring to Jak's earlier promise of a peace offering.

Jak relaxed, his face breaking out into an easy grin. He opened his mouth to reply, but a distinct woof interrupted him.

Arms still locked around one another, the two turned their heads in Dawg's direction. Keira laughed.

"Poor Dawg, he's freezing his tail off while we're over here..." Her voice trailed off as she reddened, lowering her eyes to Jak's chest.

Jak noticed her embarrassment in addressing the kiss and decided to change the subject. He cleared his throat, allowing his arms to leave her waist. Keira averted her eyes and released Jak as well, placing her hands behind her back.

"We should... get Dawg inside," Keira added hastily, hurrying across the lawn to retrieve the towel from her front steps.

Jak nodded.

"Yeah. Man, we really made a mess out here, didn't we?" he laughed, reaching up to run his hand through his hair, then pulling it back when he remembered the dog shampoo. "We're not exactly squeaky clean, either," he commented, pulling his now muddy white shirt off over his head.

Keira glanced around the lawn as she rubbed Dawg down with the towel and laughed.

"It'll dry," she assured. "I'm just glad I didn't wear white today."

Jak grinned. He let his eyes wander over her crouched body, taking notice of her sky blue tank top and once clean khaki shorts.

"So, now what?" Keira asked, oblivious to Jak's eyes appreciating her curves.

"What do you mean?" Jak inquired.

"What do we do with the rest of the day?" Keira specified. "I mean, unless you already have plans, I was thinking we could hang out."

"Oh," Jak said. "No, I didn't have anything planned. What'd you have in mind?"

"I don't know. There's not a whole lot to do in the city, is there?" she shrugged, unhooking Dawg's leash from the ground peg. Dawg stood up and shook. Keira put her hands in front of her face to protect it from the airborne water the dog was sending all over the yard.

"Ugh, I think I'd better shower first, whatever we decide to do," Keira added, attempting to brush the dog hair off of her shorts. Jak laughed.

"Me too. Hey," he added, an idea taking form in his mind. "I've got it!"

"You've got what?" Keira asked, standing and stretching her back.

"How about I pick you up around nine tonight?" he asked, a sly smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

Keira looked skeptical.

"...Why?" she asked suspiciously.

"I have a surprise for you. It's just better if we go there at night, when the moon is out. It's a better experience," Jak explained. "I'm not going to say any more. I want it to be a surprise."

"Jak, what are you..."

Jak approached her, placing his hands gently on her shoulders and looking into her eyes.

"Trust me. You'll love it. I promise."

Although Jak could see that she was still doubtful, she gave a vague nod.

"Yeah, okay," she agreed. "You're not gonna... do anything... stupid, are you?" she asked hesitantly.

Jak was hurt at the thought that Keira didn't trust him.

"What? No, I would never..."

Keira saw the pain in his eyes from her question. Immediately, she regretted ever bringing it up. For a moment, she had forgotten who she was talking to. Instincts from her experience with Erol had kicked in, and she had asked without thinking. Now, she wished she could take the words back out of the air.

"Oh, I'm sorry Jak. I know you wouldn't do anything like that. You're not Erol. I just..." she cut him off, rambling an apology.

"Wait. What did Erol do to you?" he asked, his voice suddenly growing serious.

Keira didn't reply immediately.

"It was a long time ago, Jak. It doesn't matter now."

"Yes it does. I know he's gone now, so there's nothing more I could do to him to make him suffer, but I care. I'll respect your privacy, of course, but I just need to know. That way I'll understand what makes you feel uncomfortable."

Keira looked away from Jak. She was still arguing with herself whether or not she wanted Jak to know what she had been through with that bastard. Finally, she turned away from him and headed toward the house, Dawg at her heels.

"Come on. We'll talk inside," she stated without emotion.

Jak followed her through the door of the hut. Deciding that it would be best, under the circumstances, to put his shirt back on, he tugged the filthy garment back over his head.

* * *

Keira shut the door behind Jak, then headed across the room to sit on the loveseat near her bedroom door. Jak sat next to her, waiting for her answer. Dawg trotted happily over to the rug positioned in front of the fireplace, flopping over on his side and sighing contentedly. 

Keira grinned at the croca-dog for a split second, then looked down at the floor as she thought of how to tell Jak what he wanted to know.

"You know that Erol and I were... _close_ for a while, right?" she began, wincing when the words came out. She knew this was not the best way to start the conversation. However, instead of becoming cold and distant like she had expected him to do, Jak gave her an encouraging nod.

"Well, we had been seeing each other for a few months when he took me out to dinner at some ritzy seafood place downtown. I don't know what was wrong with me, but I thought he was actually being charming that night. He was really nicely dressed, and he ordered a bottle of campaign and everything. Dinner went smoothly, but then he started getting..."

"Suggestive?" Jak offered.

"Yeah," she shuddered, recalling that eventful night. "Anyway, he kept putting his arm around me, which would've been okay if he hadn't tried to kiss my neck every time. So I told him to cool it, that we were in a public place, so he'd better cut it out. And he backed off a little, so I relaxed. Then he took me home. When we got to my apartment, he walked me to the door..."

She stopped talking for a moment, her face burning with embarrassment.

Jak put his hand on her shoulder, giving her a sympathetic look.

"It's alright, Keir. You don't have to go on if you don't want to," Jak soothed, giving her shoulder an encouraging squeeze. "I said I'd respect your privacy, so I won't make you continue if you're not comfortable."

Keira shook her head.

"It's better if I tell someone, now that I've opened the wound," she sighed, giving Jak a grim smile.

"We were at the door, and I turned around to say goodnight. But I don't think he wanted the night to end right there." She gave a bitter laugh. "He pushed me against the door with his body. I told him to slow down, but he was done listening to me. So he ran his tongue up my back, and I pushed him away. He came right back at me, trapping me with his arms against the door. I couldn't get away from him. He started to unzip the back of my dress. He had me smashed against the door, so I could hardly move. By that time, I was so scared, I couldn't have done much to fight him anyway. He turned me around then, so that I was facing him. I still remember that insane look in his eyes." She trembled involuntarily and brought her legs up on the loveseat. Wrapping her arms around her knees, she stared blankly at Dawg, snoozing soundly on the rug.

"Then he tried to slip the dress straps off of my shoulders. I think it was then that I knew I had to do something, otherwise he was going to win. So I slapped him across the face as hard as I could. He staggered backward, holding his face. Then he looked up at me, and he was really angry that I was fighting back. He was going to come at me again, but I threatened to report him to the Guard. He was afraid of losing his position as the Baron's right hand man, so he finally left me alone. He ran back down the hall, calling me a bitch and whatnot. I just sank to the floor and cried. I can't remember ever being so scared in my life."

By the time Keira had finished her retelling of that chilling night, Jak was thoroughly pissed.

"Damn him!" he yelled, punching a pillow to release his anger. "How dare he!" He reached for Keira, embracing her fiercely and pulling her almost into his lap. He placed a firm kiss on the top of her head.

"You know I would never, ever hurt you like that," he promised forcefully. He let his chin rest gently on the top of her head, staring into the empty fireplace, trying to vent his anger through his glare.

"I know you wouldn't, Jak. I'm sorry I even brought it up. I didn't have the right to accuse you of even thinking that way."

"No, I understand now. You were just being protective. You had every right to question my motives. But you know that it would never even cross my mind to try something like that, and that's what matters. Damn that son of a bitch. I'd kill him again if I could..."

"It's okay, Jak," Keira assured, reaching for his hand and letting her fingers lace themselves into his. "Like I said, it was a long time ago."

He held her there, rocking slightly back and forth for a few minutes. Then he forced himself to relax a bit so that he wouldn't crush Keira in his arms. His grip on her loosened so that she could easily slip out of his hold if she chose to. She wanted to stay there, however, in Jak's protective embrace for a while longer.

"Why did you get back together with him after that?" Jak finally broke the comfortable silence with a tentative question.

"I didn't want to. I told him that it was over, that I never wanted to see him again. But he apologized so profusely, it was embarrassing. I refused to even speak to him for quite a while. But he persisted, and he would call and leave really sweet messages, and he sent me letters and flowers and other junk that he thought would make up for that enormous screw-up. It didn't, of course, and I never really forgave him. But after three months of non-stop love mail, I sort of caved in. I was really stupid, Jak. I knew that I shouldn't have let him back into my life, but he was blinding me with all those false apologizes. The worst mistake I've ever made was taking him back."

Jak squeezed her hand.

"That's over now. Erol's dead. I won't let anything like that happen to you again, ever."

"How can you promise that? You can't be with me everywhere I go. How do you know some creep isn't going to jump me in the street?" she asked. She didn't want to make it an issue, but she was tired of broken promises, even if they hadn't come from Jak.

"Don't talk like that," Jak urged, hugging her closer. "You have to have a little more faith in people. Not everyone is like that jerk. I just want you to know, as long as I'm around, nothing is going to happen to you. You just remember that."

Keira sighed into his arms.

"I'll try, Jak," she promised wearily.

Jak would have liked to hold her for the rest of the day. But it was as if Keira had suddenly become aware of her situation. He felt her stiffen in his arms.

"Please don't tell anyone, Jak," she pleaded, her eyes frantically searching his. "Especially Daddy. I don't want him to get upset over something that happened a year ago."

"It doesn't leave this room," Jak nodded. "I swear."

Keira gave him a weak, appreciative smile. She yawned.

"Oh, I'd better shower."

"Okay," Jak acknowledged, reluctantly shifting to allow her to escape from his embrace. She slid out of his lap and off of the loveseat and took the few steps necessary to reach her bedroom. Stopping in the doorway, she leaned against the frame, giving Jak a grateful smile.

"Hey, thanks for helping with Dawg. Even if you did almost drown him," she teased.

Jak grinned at her.

"Any time," he replied.

He got to his feet and made his way to the door.

"You still up for that surprise?" Jak questioned, hoping that she would be, even now that she had been made to remember that horrifying experience.

"You bet. See you tonight, then?" she smiled confidently.

"Yeah," Jak grinned. He whistled to Dawg, who raised his head and perked his ears. "Bye, Keira."

"Talk to you later," she waved, disappearing through the bedroom door.

Jak watched her go, then shut the door behind him as he walked out onto the muddy lawn.

_'Poor Keira,'_ he thought. _'I knew that Erol was no good, but I never thought he'd have the nerve to try something so brash. Damn bastard. I hope he roasts in hell.'_

Jak returned to his zoomer, inserted the key, and climbed up.

_'Does this change anything? I mean, if she's been through that, she's probably a little scared to start another relationship that might end up the same way. But I would never, ever hurt her like that. She knows that. God, I hope she knows that.'_

* * *

"What? You're leaving again?" Daxter asked incredulously. 

Jak pulled the long sleeved black hoodie over his head, ignoring the annoyance in his friend's voice.

"Yes, I'm leaving again," he replied pointedly.

"But… you just saw her this morning!" Dax complained.

"Yeah, and I want to see her again. If that's alright with you," Jak snapped.

"Well, it's not alright with me. You've been running around all day long. Tonight's poker night, remember? I'm gonna lose my shirt, figuratively speaking of course, to Pecker without you there to look at his cards. You can't just walk out on your best friend like that! How am I supposed to get by without any money?"

"Well, Daxter, as I recall, you own a bar now. Hmm, here's a thought. _Open_ the bar to the public. You just might earn some money," Jak encouraged.

"Hey! I thought we went over this yesterday," Daxter pouted. "Do the words 'illegal beer' ring any bells?"

"Can't help you, Dax. I wasn't the one who did business with bootleggers."

"You can't pin this on me, I told you they dumped the evidence at the Ottsel. It's not my fault that I'm currently hiding from the law," Daxter spat sarcastically.

"Look, I don't have time for this," Jak dismissed. "I'm taking Keira to Dead Town, and if there are any Metal Heads creeping around out there, we'll need time to take them out."

"WHAT?" Daxter exploded at Jak. "You're blowing off poker night to put Keira in mortal danger? Are you off your rocker? Oh, wait. I got it. You want to show off all your metal-munching moves, am I right?"

"Far from it," Jak grinned.

Dax stared disbelievingly at him for a moment.

"Who are you and what have you done with Jak?" he asked in astonishment.

Jak laughed at the seriousness in his friend's tone.

"Don't you remember, Dax? Samos and Keira's old hut is out in Dead Town. I thought it'd be nice to let her visit it. I don't think she even knows it's here. I know how much she wanted to go back to Sandover when we found the rift in Kor's nest, and I know that it's hard for her to adjust to making Haven her permanent home. But I thought if she could see the old place, it'd help."

Daxter's face fell.

"Yeah? Or, it could make things worse," he added.

"What do you mean?" Jak demanded.

"Think about it. That old place is nothing but ruins now. It could break her heart to see her old home in such a mess," Dax explained.

"Well, if you would have cleaned it up for Samos, like he told you to do..." Jak began, giving Daxter a clever grin.

"I'm serious, pal. How did you feel the first time you realized that mess of stone and twigs was the remains of your previous life?" the ottsel remarked wisely.

Jak eyed his fuzz-covered friend for a moment.

"But it could help with closure," he finally replied.

Daxter shook his head despairingly.

"You just don't get it, do you?" he questioned, not waiting for an answer as he made his way to the door. "I'm gonna walk to the Ottsel. Maybe I'll have time to stack the deck before Pecker and Sig show up," he added with a sigh, heading out and closing the door behind him.

Jak stared at the closed door, trying to understand what Daxter was saying. Finally, he shook his head and went about gathering his Morph Gun. They would need it later, in case the Metal Heads had re-gathered in Dead Town. Snatching his keys off of the bedside table, he switched the bedroom light off and followed Dax out the door.

A cool breeze tousled the young hero's hair as he stepped out onto his front step, locking the door before heading to his zoomer. He pulled the hood of his black sweatshirt over his head, smashing his long ears in the process. Swinging one leg over the vehicle, Jak turned the zoomer in the direction of Keira's hut.

* * *

Jak arrived at Keira's at precisely 8:04. Yanking the hood down, he knocked on her front door. 

Dawg barked threateningly from the other side. Through the curtained window, Jak could see Keira look up sharply from the book she was reading on the sofa. She placed a bookmark between its pages and stood up from the couch. Jak could hear the click of a lock sliding into place as Keira opened the door.

"Jak!" she exclaimed, surprised. "You're an hour early. I wasn't expecting you until nine."

"Yeah, well, I thought we should get an early start. It'll take a while to get there, anyway," he replied casually.

"Oh, okay," Keira answered uncertainly. "Just, uh, let me get ready real quick."

Jak entered the living room as Keira turned from the door. He bent to pet Dawg, as he had jumped up, placing his paws on Jak's legs.

Keira disappeared into her bedroom for a few minutes. When she came back out, she was wearing a light suede jacket, house keys dangling from her hand. She crossed the room hurriedly, reaching around the corner of the kitchen and flipping the light switch off. Finally, she headed over to Jak.

"Okay," she said brightly, giving him a warm smile. "Let's go."

She scratched Dawg behind the ears before following Jak outside. Locking the door behind her, she turned to face Jak.

"Where are you planning on taking me?" she grinned. Then she spotted the gun Jak had left strapped to his zoomer. Her eyes grew wide. "And why did you bring a lethal weapon?" she added, slightly sarcastically.

Jak gave her a look that plainly said, 'You're not going to like what I have to say.'

Keira read the look and took a step back from the vehicle.

"Jak..." she began. "I don't like this. What's going on?"

Jak reached out and took her hand.

"We'll be heading out of the city, and I just want to be prepared in case..." he tried to explain tentatively.

"In case of what?" she asked, frightened. "Where are you taking me, Jak?"

"It's okay," he soothed, giving her a reassuring look. "We probably won't even have to use it. I just want to be sure, that's all."

Some of the tension left her eyes.

"C'mon. We'd better get a move on if we're going to make it out there in time," Jak persisted, letting go of Keira's hand as he hopped up on the zoomer. Keira stood by the vehicle uncertainly.

"Please just tell me where we're going, Jak. That's all I want to know."

Jak took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. He didn't want to have to spoil the surprise, but she had a right to know.

"Dead Town. Outside the shield walls. I just brought the Morph Gun in case we happened to run into any trouble. Metal Heads," he added, noting the questioning look on her face.

She paled.

"What? This is your surprise? What could possibly be in Dead Town worth risking our lives? I'm not sure I'm coming with you," she exclaimed, taking another step back.

Jak didn't try to hide the disappointment in his eyes. He stretched a hand out to her, hoping she would reconsider.

"Please?" he pleaded. "There's something out there I want you to see. It's worth it, I swear. Please come with me, Keir."

She looked up into his eyes. She saw the disappointment, and her heart lurched.

"Don't you trust me?" Jak asked, a hurt tone to his voice.

"Of course I do," she replied quickly. "Oh, alright. I'll come with you, but if I see one Metal Head..."

Relief washed over Jak.

"Great," he sighed. "Besides," he added teasingly as Keira climbed on behind him. "I'll need the company. I'm scared of the dark."

Keira laughed as she wrapped her arms around Jak's waist.

* * *

A short while later, the blue zoomer was parked in a dead-end ally in the newly reconstructed slums. Yellow police tape surrounded the metal double- barrier leading to Dead Town, as the ditch around it was labeled a safety hazard. 

Jak, followed closely by Keira, made his way to the taped-off area. He stopped at the tape, eyeing it thoughtfully.

"I guess we'll have to crawl under," he shrugged. He bent down to lift the tape over his head. On the other side, he held it up for Keira. She stepped under, and Jak jumped down into the ditch. He held his arms out to Keira, who hopped down after him, stumbling and falling into his open embrace. Smiling thankfully up at him, she slid out of his arms.

The first door slid open as the two approached it, closing behind them when they walked through. The second barrier began to unlock as Jak removed his gun and swapped its Scatter mode with the Blaster. Keira made a small noise in her throat as Jak handled the gun. This wasn't like the gun course, where there was no danger of being attacked. This was the real thing.

Jak gave her a sympathetic look. The door split and opened, and Jak took a deep breath. Stepping out into the swamp-like Dead Town, Jak flipped the laser point of his Blaster mod on. He aimed it around, quickly scanning for any movement. Seeing none, he let his breath out in a rush.

"See?" he assured. "Nothing to worry about." He smiled encouragingly at his friend, as she had been searching the landscape for any sign of the hideous creatures.

Nonetheless, Jak kept his Blaster out through the entire trek to the hut. Once, just once, he thought he saw a glimmer of a golden head plate worn by a Metal Head. Without thinking, he shot into the night. The head plate disappeared behind a pillar. Jak watched the pillar warily, waiting for it to reemerge. It did not.

Keira had grasped Jak's shoulder at the sound of sudden gunshot.

"What was it?" she asked breathlessly.

Jak sighed.

"Just a rabbit," he lied. They walked away from the spot, Jak keeping one eye on it, just in case.

Finally, they reached the last ledge before the hut would come into the line of vision.

"This is where you close your eyes," Jak grinned, stopping behind a ruined wall.

Keira froze.

"Are you sure?" she asked. "Couldn't I keep them open, under the circumstances? I trust you, I really do, but what if..."

Jak cut her off, placing a hand over her mouth.

"If you trust me, than you'll do this one thing for me. Please?" he pleaded. She took a deep breath.

"Don't you lead me off any cliffs, Jak," she warned playfully, closing her eyes and letting her hands hunt for his.

"Not in a million years," Jak answered. He took her searching hands in his. Leading her safely across the last makeshift bridge, he halted her in front of the old ramp that led up to the hut. _'It's perfect tonight,'_ he thought. _'The moon is out, there are millions of stars. She'll love it. She just has to.' _

Suddenly, Daxter's words hit him.

_'But what if Dax is right? I didn't mean for this to be painful, I wanted her to be happy. No, she's just got to like it. That's all there is to it.'_

"Jak?" Keira inquired.

"Hmm?"

"Are we there? Can I open my eyes?"

"Yes," he replied slowly. "Just so long as you don't hate me for it," he added.

Keira opened her eyes. At first, she stared at the old hut quizzically, as if wondering what she was looking at. Then, realization dawned on her face. Her eyes grew large in amazement, and she took a step toward the ramp.

"Oh, Jak..." she whispered.

She turned to him, tears in her eyes.

"Oh no, don't do this..." Jak began, prepared to apologize for his mistake in bringing her out. "I knew this was going to happen, I knew you were going to hate me..."

"How could I hate you?" she asked kindly, a tear slipping down her cheek. "Jak, this is wonderful! I never knew, all this time I spent in Haven... I never even thought about... oh, Jak...we're home!"

She flung herself into his arms, burying her face in his chest. Somewhat relieved, somewhat confused, Jak hugged her back.

"So, you're glad I brought you out here?" he asked hesitantly.

"Glad? Jak, I'm home! I'm thrilled!"

She broke away, taking his hand in hers.

"Can we go in?" she asked expectantly.

"Of course we can. It's your hut, isn't it?" Jak smiled.

An overjoyed expression came across Keira's face. Pulling Jak along, she sprinted up the wooden ramp. Keira was in such a rush to get to the second story, she just about fell through one of the missing planks. Jak caught her around the waist before she fell, pulling her to a stop.

"Whoa, be careful honey," he warned. "You have to remember this place isn't as sturdy as it used to be. It's over four-hundred years old."

Keira took a deep breath.

"Right."

Jak felt her relax a little. He let her go, and she cautiously stepped over the hole. He followed her, keeping an eye out for any more hazards.

They entered the old lab reverently. Jak gave Keira a while to take in the scene, knowing it must be hard for her to view the place in such a rundown state. He walked up behind her and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"You okay?" he asked softly.

Without answering, Keira put her hand on his.

"It's all here," she whispered. "Everything. The books, the warp gate, the furnace..." She turned to Jak, again wrapping her arms around his neck. "Thank you so much. This is wonderful."

"I knew you'd want to see it again. Even if it is a little... messy," he finished, glancing over her head at the enormous hole in the wall made by Metal Heads years ago and returning the embrace.

"I wonder if my room's still intact..." she pondered.

"Let's go find out," Jak responded brightly, breaking away from her.

They carefully made their way back down the ramp, then turned and continued on downward to the base floor. Keira's old workshop had been located here, as well as her bedroom.

"Look, there's the transpad..." Keira pointed out. "Hmm. Looks like those Metal Heads got a hold of my zoomer, though..." she sighed, glancing at the broken rope that had once tethered her old zoomer to the ceiling.

"Bummer," Jak commented.

"They've left a lot of my tools, though," she added rushing over to her workbench. "Wow." She picked up a wrench that had lain on the wooden bench for centuries. "This is like a dream. I never thought I'd hold this again."

"Here," Jak offered, making his way over to the bedroom door. It was now blocked up with boxes and rubble. He leaned against the clutter in the way, pushing it aside. Keira put the wrench down carefully and walked through the newly cleared doorway. Jak entered the room after her.

"Oh," she gasped. "I don't think the Metal Heads got in here at all. Everything is where I had it when we left."

Jak looked around as Keira sat down on her old bed.

"My bed's still made and everything, she explained. "I'll bet..." She reached down under her bed and pulled out a dusty leather-bound book. "I knew it!" she laughed. "My old journal. Right where I left it." She opened the book slowly, turning each page carefully and smiling every once in a while at the entries.

"I think I'll take this back with me, if it's alright with you," she smiled at Jak.

"Yeah, sure. Do whatever you want," Jak grinned back. "Like I said, all this stuff belongs to you anyway."

Closing the journal abruptly and sitting bolt upright, Keira gazed wide- eyed out the window.

"Jak..." she gasped.

Immediately, Jak whirled around and looked out the window as well.

He caught a fleeting glimpse of a golden head plate streaking past the window.

"Damn it!" he snarled, grabbing his gun from its holster once more. The Metal Head had nowhere to go but back up the ramp. Through the bedroom door, he saw the creature sprint past the workshop, heading for the ramp.

"Stay there, Keira!" he shouted, following the beast at a run. Keira obeyed, hugging the journal to her chest in fear.

Jak followed the Metal Head up the ramp, but stopped when it shot across the bridge. He brought the gun into position, no time to flip the laser on. He fired, hitting the creature in the back left leg. It screamed in pain, but limped on around the corner before Jak could fire again.

"Son of a bitch," he muttered, heading over the bridge after the wounded foe. He prepared to shoot again as soon as he reached the other side. But, looking around frantically, he could see that the creature had escaped. Sighing in exasperation, he replaced the Morph Gun in its holster. He turned and jogged back across the bridge and down the ramp.

"Come on. Let's get out of here before that scout has a chance to report back to whoever's in charge now," Jak said sternly as he reentered Keira's bedroom.

"Didn't you kill it?" she asked, horrified.

Jak sighed again and shook his head.

"It got away. Hurry. Get your journal and let's go, before a whole platoon shows up on the doorstep..." he explained.

Quickly, Keira got to her feet and ran to Jak.

He touched her cheek.

"I'm sorry we couldn't stay longer," he apologized.

Keira shook her head.

"It's not your fault, Jak. I got to see the old place again, and for that, I'm thankful. Now, let's move! I don't want to be around when that thing gets back with a few of its friends..." she replied, her eyes searching outside for the creature.

Jak took her hand. Together, they made their way back to the city barrier unscathed, and without a sign of the wounded scout.

* * *

Jak pulled up beside Keira's mahogany hut. She climbed down off of the zoomer, journal in hand. Jak leapt off as well. He walked her to the door. 

"I'm glad we got to see the hut," Keira offered, breaking the silence. "Thank you Jak. It really means a lot to me."

"I'm just sorry I kept it from you this long. There's just never been an appropriate time to tell you," Jak said apologetically.

Keira leaned in and gave Jak a soft kiss on the cheek.

"I'd like to go back sometime," she whispered. "Just, not at night." She shuddered. "That Metal Head scared me to death," she added, wrapping her arms around the journal.

Jak placed his hand on the back of Keira's head. Gently, he brought her face up to his. Tilting his head, Jak closed his eyes and made contact with her lips. She brought her arms around his neck, her free hand combing through his golden hair. Finally, they pulled apart slowly. Keira looked up into his eyes, searching for something to say.

"I..." she began, but stopped.

"Yes?" Jak urged.

She released his neck, again putting her hands, journal and all, behind her back. She looked down.

"I should get to bed," she finished.

"Oh." Jak tried to hide the disappointment in his voice. He knew that she was about to say something else, and he wished that she would have. He knew that he loved her, but did she love him?

"Goodnight, Jak," she added kindly, giving him an appreciative smile.

"Sweet dreams, Keir," he replied, trying to muster a grin.

He headed back to his zoomer, but waited until Keira was safely locked inside before leaving.

* * *

A/N: Second revision in two days. Boy, I'm on a roll. I will try my best to get the next chapter (14) up sometime before summer break comes to an end. (HA!) I mean, what else do I have to do, right? 

All I have to say is: Pilsbury Dough-Battery.

Aut-o knows what I'm talking about. That's the important thing.

May the flying gerbils of doom rain coconuts down upon your tiny village.

-Alternative Delirium


	6. Chapter 6: Close Revelation

A/N: Mmkay. Here it is Tuesday, and I'm not at work. Squid. 'Cause you know I'd rather be here doing this.

* * *

"What's the matter with you?" Daxter asked groggily, climbing up onto the table to retrieve the plate of bacon that was conveniently located out of his reach.

Jak didn't answer. He had been sitting at the kitchen table for the past five minutes this morning, head resting in hand silently.

"Hello?" Daxter waved a paw at the motionless figure opposite him. "Jak, this is reality speaking. Do you copy?"

Jak's eyes shot to the orange rodent standing in the middle of his table.

"What?" he asked quickly, as if hearing Daxter for the first time.

"Sheesh, about time," the annoyed ottsel snapped. "What are you so absorbed in over there?"

"Oh, er, nothing," Jak yawned, shaking his head to clear his thoughts. "Just thinking about something that happened last night."

Daxter gave him a scowl.

"Yeah? Well, thanks to you, I can't get my mind off of last night either. You're lucky I didn't loose the hut to Pecker. You know I had to write an IOU to that monkaw for a month's worth of drinks from the Ottsel? Talk about luck. He nearly cleaned me out. And like I said. I owe it all to you," he finished venomously. Changing the subject, he added, "I never did ask you how that date of yours played out. How'd it go?"

Jak grinned, remembering the kiss he and Keira had shared at her doorstep the night before.

"Better than I could have hoped," he sighed contentedly.

Dax smiled mischievously up at him.

"Uh-huh. I think there might have been a few interesting... 'developments' last night. So, tell me. Did you manage to fit in a game of tonsil hockey?"

Jak tried to stifle a laugh.

"We kissed," he grinned. "If that's what you mean."

Immediately, Jak regretted ever opening his mouth. From the sudden smirk that Daxter wore, he knew that he had just handed the rodent another piece of ammunition against him.

"Aww..." Daxter teased. "How sweet. Let me guess. You're out at Dead Town, and you take the bandana off of her eyes, revealing the hut. She then throws herself into your arms and proclaims her undying love for you. You carry her up to the old loft, where you kiss under the stars..." The ottsel sighed dreamily, pretending to wipe away a tear. "It's so beautiful. It'd make a great novel, don't you think?"

"Treading on thin ice, bud. I'd shut the hell up now if I were you..." Jak snapped, embarrassment beginning to redden his ears.

Daxter broke out into a spasm of laughter at Jak's red face.

"Ooh, looks like I hit a nerve."

"I was dropping her off, and it just seemed an appropriate way to end the night," Jak explained, trying to keep his cool. He pushed the chair back and got to his feet. "You know how it is."

"I see," the furry creature smirked. "So that's what was keeping you so preoccupied, huh? Remembering how she tastes..."

Daxter was cut short by Jak, who had crossed the small room and was now holding his orange friend upside down by the tail.

"As a matter of fact, I was a little more concerned with that Metal Head scout that got away at Dead Town. So shut your mouth."

Daxter folded his arms, dangling upside down from Jak's grip.

"Fine. Don't let me have any fun."

Jak let go, causing Dax to fall back onto the table face-first.

Picking himself up, he glared at Jak.

"What scout are you referring to?" he asked, more out of curiosity than for conversational purpose.

Jak opened the refrigerator and pulled out a pitcher of orange juice.

"A Metal Head," he replied flatly, slamming the fridge door closed and heading back to the table.

"Yes, I gathered that, Master of the Obvious," Daxter sighed exasperatedly, rolling his eyes. "Details would be nice."

Jak groaned as he sat back down. Quickly he filled him in on the previous night's events, leaving out all emotional occurrences between Keira and himself.

"Ooh, I bet Keira loved that..." Daxter grinned after Jak had finished. "Her first close encounter with a Metal Head, and her big bad boyfriend can't even shoot straight. Nice going, Jak."

Jak rolled his eyes as he removed a glass from the cupboard.

"Look, I'm already pissed that I didn't take the damn thing out," he sighed. "Do you have to be a downer all the time?"

"Yes, actually," Dax remarked coolly, jumping from the table and heading into the bedroom. "So, what are you going to do about that scout? Tell Torn? I'm sure he'd be very interested to hear all about your date, too..." he called from the other room.

Jak closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Daxter was really asking for it.

"Yeah, and he'd probably tell Storm Fleet to go check it out. The Metal Heads have already been alerted to our presence last night by now. There'll be an ambush waiting the next time we go back, you can be sure of that," Jak replied, taking on a serious tone.

"So?" Daxter asked above the various noises he was making as he cleaned up the room. "Metal Heads have never been a problem for you. You could probably take 'em all out without any assistance from the team."

"Well..." Jak stuttered, trying to come up with a legitimate reason to keep this information from Torn. He knew that Daxter was right. Sooner or later, Torn would have to be notified of the awaiting attack in Dead Town. But Jak also knew that Keira wasn't ready to face off with those monsters just yet. He remembered her face the night before when she had seen just the one streak past her window. She had been terrified, almost immobile with fright. The rest of the team was irrelevant to him at the moment. Just as long as he knew that Keira was safe, nothing else mattered.

"Oh. I get it," Dax began knowingly, noting Jak's nervous expression as he peered around the corner. "It's Keira, isn't it?"

"What? No, I just..."

"You don't want her to get hurt. You're afraid that she's not ready for a full blown battle yet, aren't you?" the ottsel inquired seriously.

Jak shifted his weight uneasily.

"She wanted to practice a little more with the Morph Gun before she actually has to use it, that's all," he tried to explain.

"You, uh, do know where you go for lying, don't you Jak?"

"Oh, come on!" Jak exclaimed exasperatedly, throwing his arms in the air. "What is your obsession with hounding me for every little detail? All I'm saying is that she's not prepared to take on a whole unit of Metal Heads just yet, okay? She personally requested more practice when we were at the meeting the other day. So piss off!"

Daxter's face was ashen from the sudden outburst.

"Okay, okay. Chill, buddy. You'll give yourself a hernia like that," he commented, trying to lighten the mood.

Jak took a deep breath.

"Sorry about that, Dax, I didn't mean..."

"Well, the best thing I can suggest you do is to hurry up and get a few more practice sessions in with Keira. Then you can tell Torn about Dead Town," the furry ottsel dismissed quickly, changing the subject.

"Yeah..." Jak agreed slowly. "Yeah, that's probably the best idea. I'll have to give her a call."

"You do that. I'm going to be at the bazaar. We really need groceries. We're living off hair gel and ice cubes. Not a very healthy menu," Daxter replied, reentering the bedroom. He returned a few moments later, Jak's zoomer keys in hand.

"Wait. You're driving my zoomer? Is that even legal?" Jak asked disbelievingly.

"Since when do you care what's legal and what's not? Besides, I drove the NYFE racer for Keira's garage in the Class Two race without killing myself, remember?" the rodent stated indignantly.

Jak smiled.

"Yeah, I remember. Okay, whatever. Just don't get pulled over for being too short to reach the handlebars..." he teased.

"A lot of faith you have in me..." Dax grumbled under his breath as he left, pulling the door closed behind him.

Jak sighed, running a hand through his hair and looking around the desolate kitchen. He rose from his chair and stomped into the bedroom, noticing that Daxter had picked up his side of the room for him.

Flopping down on his newly made bed, Jak lay motionless for a minute. Finally, he reached out with his right arm, groping blindly on the bedside table for his cell phone. His fingers closed around it, and he pulled it in front of his face, quickly punching in Keira's phone number. Holding the cell to his left ear, Jak waited for Keira to pick up.

"Hello?" Keira's familiar voice answered the call on the third ring.

"Hey," Jak replied. "How's Dawg?"

Keira's voice relaxed when she heard Jak on the other end.

"Hey Jak. He's feeling a little degraded from having to take a bath yesterday, but otherwise, energetic as ever. What's up?"

"The ceiling. The sky. Other stuff. What are you up to?"

Keira gave a short laugh.

"I've been upstairs all morning. Working on your old zoomer, actually. Oh, shoot. I left the welder on. Can you hold on a minute?"

A puzzled expression crossed his face. 'How do you accidentally leave a welder on?' he thought. He grinned.

"Yeah, sure," he answered smilingly.

He heard Keira's phone click as she dropped it on her upstairs workbench, then her hurried footsteps as she rushed back to the welder she had left on the floor.

"Dammit! NO! Dawg, drop it, drop the welder rod, put it down this INSTANT! Oh...SHIT! Holy freaking crap... Oh God NO!"

BOOM.

Jak couldn't maintain himself. He had never heard Keira yell like that before. He was laughing so hard, he had to hold the phone away from his face in fear of Keira overhearing him. Finally, he composed himself enough to replace the cell near his ear.

"Jak? Jak, are you still there?" Keira was speaking into the receiver again.

"Yeah," he chuckled. "Sounds like you might be experiencing some... technical difficulties over there."

Keira sighed.

"I left the stupid welder on when I answered the phone, and it was starting to burn a hole through my carpet. I was going to turn it off just now, but then Dawg got a hold of it. I made him drop it. Right next to a freaking gas can."

Jak was forcing himself not to laugh, and tears were forming behind his eyes from the effort.

"Ooh, sometimes that dog just drives me crazy! Are you thinking about taking him back anytime soon?"

Jak knew that she was being sarcastic. She loved that dog, no matter how many gas cans he blew up.

"Nah, he likes you. And you like his company, whether you want to admit it or not."

Keira groaned.

"No, I'm almost certain that I'm fed up with him."

"Hey, you were the one who left the welder on the floor. What's the matter with you? You're usually so organized when you work. Something on your mind?"

"I... guess I'm just flustered today."

"Over what?" Jak pursued.

"Well," she took a deep breath. "Torn called me last night. Right after you dropped me off. He wanted to know if I had seen you yesterday. I guess he had tried to call you earlier, before we got back. So I told him about the Metal Head out in Dead Town..."

Jak cursed under his breath.

"What? Didn't you want him to know? I mean, you were going to tell him about it later, right?" She sounded nervous, afraid that she had done something wrong.

"Yeah," Jak sighed, trying to sound reassuring. "He needed to know. What did he say?"

"He wanted to know if I was capable of combat yet. And that kind of frightened me, to tell you the truth. I know that if you're in the Underground, you're going to get your hands dirty. But it's kind of scary when you know your first job is just hours away..."

"Wait. He gave you a mission?"

"Well, not exactly. It's just the way he was talking to me that made me feel like any minute now he's going to call again with some impossible task for Storm Fleet." She added in a small, tentative voice, "Thought I might give you the heads up."

"Great," Jak growled. Then, remembering his purpose for calling, he asked, "I don't suppose you could squeeze in an hour or two of Blaster practice this morning?"

"That's actually a really good idea. I think I'd feel a little more secure if I got warmed up before we have to head out." There was a short silence on the line. "Will you come with me?" she pleaded in that same troubled tone.

"I had been counting on it," Jak soothed.

"Oh, good. I should bring my own gun, right?"

"Yeah, that'd be best. That way, you can get a feel for your weapon instead of mine," he explained.

"That's true. When do you want to...?"

"As soon as possible," Jak interrupted firmly.

"Okay, great. Uh, just give me a half an hour to clean up this mess, and I'll meet you at the range. Bad dog..." she scolded the croca-dog cowering at her feet.

Jak laughed.

"Don't be too hard on him. He probably thought he was helping you," he added teasingly.

"Yeah, helping me find an excuse to redecorate up here," Keira corrected sarcastically.

"Uh-huh. Well, I'll let you go. See you in thirty minutes."

"Okay. Bye, Jak," she finished. Jak waited until the phone clicked, signaling the end of their conversation. He hung up, tossing the cell phone back onto his bedside table. With a sigh, he pulled himself up into a sitting position. Letting his gaze wander aimlessly around the room, he assessed his situation.

'_Okay. So, Keira has already told Torn about the Metal Head. Great, just what I needed. Well, we'll just have to work with the guns this morning and wait for his call. If he does call. Man, I wish we had more time. Yeah, we'll just have to wait. That's all we can do...' _

Jak yawned and stretched his back out before getting to his feet. Trudging wearily into the bathroom, he stopped in front of the mirror. He studied his reflection. His green-tinged, golden hair was tousled from sleep; his goatee was in need of a slight trim. His normally brilliantly aflame blue eyes were dulled by disappointment from the news that Keira had given him. As he stared into his own eyes, he was surprised to have a brief glimpse of his Dark Eco tainted self gazing rebelliously back at him. Immediately, Jak looked down at his hand. Holding it up in front of his face, he could see his fingernails were in their normal state, his flesh the same color it had been this morning.

Again, he glanced at the mirror. The demonic figure he had seen only moments before had vanished, leaving him with his usual handsome reflection. He shook his head to clear his thoughts.

'_Sheesh, I must be losing it,'_ he thought grimly. He took one last look at the mirror, confirming that he had not changed into his powerful alter ego. Pulling his shirt up over his head, he threw yesterday's clothing into the basket by the door that served as the clothes hamper. _'If we do end up being sent to Dead Town, I can't let myself go berserk and use my Dark power. It's too risky with the rest of Storm Fleet there. I might hurt someone without meaning to. And Keira... Maybe that's what the dream meant. It was warning me to avoid using the power of Dark Eco when I'm on the front lines with the team. I'll have to suppress any anger. I don't want to risk hurting anyone... especially Keir.'_

Ten minutes later, Jak emerged from the bathroom, a towel tied loosely about his waist, trails of water streaming sown his bare torso. He yanked a drawer on the bedside table open, revealing the last few clean shirts he possessed. Grabbing both a white muscle shirt and plaid flannel over-shirt, he tossed the garments on his bed. Removing a pair of dark jeans and red boxers from a second drawer, he quickly changed.

Now sporting the folksy country boy look, Jak returned to the bathroom and swung the mirror door open. He took down a pair of short-bladed scissors and wiped the mirror free of fog before trimming his goatee. When he had it shaped as he wanted it, he ran a hand over it and admired his achievement. Satisfied, he replaced the clippers and headed back to his bedroom.

Jak kneeled down by the side of his bed, pulling his Morph Gun out from underneath. With the gun secured in his shoulder holster, he straightened, grabbing the black comb that had been thrown on the television table.

After running the comb through his damp hair, Jak reached for his zoomer keys, only to remember that Daxter had taken the vehicle to go to the bazaar.

Sighing heavily, he trudged to his windowed bedroom wall, where his jet- board lay propped up against the edge of his bed. He had only fifteen minutes to get to the gun course, and taking the board would be faster than walking.

Jak flipped the light switch in the kitchen off before heading out, jet- board tucked under his arm.

* * *

Twenty-four minutes later, Jak skidded to a stop in front of the shooting range. Keira's violet zoomer was parked near the entrance, but she was nowhere to be seen. Jak walked into the range lobby, expecting to find her there.

"Keira?" he asked aloud, peering around the doorframe. There was no one in the room.

Perplexed, Jak left the jet-board inside the empty room and exited the lobby. He scanned the lake, its waves monotonously ebbing and flowing rhythmically. The soft glint of sunlight off of the lake itself was soothing, relaxing. He was about to turn around and head back inside the range when someone caught his eye. Sitting out on the pier, with her feet dangling in the water, was Keira. Jak allowed a small smile to tug at his features as he made his way over to her.

She sat leaning back, with both arms spread out behind her to offer support. Her sandals lay beside her, along with her zoomer keys. Jak noted that she wore a soft yellow, backless tank top and a pair of khaki capris that she had rolled up to keep them from getting wet. Her eyes were closed, and she had a peaceful expression on her face.

Jak approached her silently, and crouched down behind her. He placed a hand on her shoulder, feeling her jump at his unexpected contact.

"Hey, it's just me," he soothed gently as her eyes opened quickly and she turned her head to identify the touch's source, a gasp escaping from her throat.

The alarm left her eyes and she sighed in relief, then smiled up at him.

"Hi, Jak. You kind of surprised me there." She slid over to make room for him as he sat down beside her, being sure to keep his boots out of the water.

"I'm sorry," he apologized. "I didn't mean to." He gazed at a barge floating drearily above the water further out in the lake. "What are you doing over here?"

"I was waiting for you," she commented, allowing her eyes to leave Jak's face and rove over his outfit approvingly. "And I decided to wait out here." She faced the lake and closed her eyes again, as if her simple answer explained everything.

Jak lay back, propped up by his elbows, watching the steady beat of the waves on the pier. He was beginning to get sleepy after a few minutes, but was startled out of his trance when Keira spoke again.

"Do you ever just wish you could go back in time?" she inquired. "Back to Sandover, I mean."

"Of course I do," Jak agreed, a bit confused by her topic of conversation.

She smiled sadly, eyes still closed.

"Me too. I used to dream about being home all the time. That was before we ran into each other again," she informed, finally opening her eyes and settling them on Jak.

Jak tilted his head and raised an eyebrow, obviously interested.

"I missed everything. Long walks on Sentinel Beach, the sunsets, just the general simplicity of life the way it used to be." Her tone was mournful, and her eyes suddenly blurred with unshed tears. Jak put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. She smiled weakly at him and blinked the tears back.

"But most of all, I missed you," she finished, her eyes searching for his.

Jak was touched.

"Hey, I missed you too," he managed to get out. He hoped she didn't see that his eyes were moistening as well. He enveloped her in his arms, pulling her into a hug.

She allowed him to kiss her forehead, the tears overcoming her determination to keep them behind closed eyes. She had tried to forget about their past, to let the memories of her carefree childhood to fade to the point of vagueness. But she never could shake the vision she held in her mind of Sandover. And now that she had seen the hut again, so many of those repressed memories had come flooding back. She needed a friend right now. She needed Jak.

"Keira," Jak whispered as she buried her tear-stained face in his chest. "Hey, it's okay. Look, I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere. Don't cry," he soothed gently.

"God, Jak. I'm so confused. I... I just want to go home so bad..." she sobbed.

"I know, sweetheart. I know," Jak comforted. "I'd rather be in Sandover right now than Haven myself. And believe me, I'd do anything if I could get you back home. I know you miss it."

There was silence as Keira shrugged him off, using the back of her hand to wipe the tears away from her face. She sighed shakily, again looking out across the lake. She gave a half-hearted smile before changing the subject.

"You know, I used to come out here to get away from that cramped little apartment," she sniffled. "I would sit out on the wharf and close my eyes. It made me feel like I was home again, sitting on the beach. I believed it, too. I can still believe it, as long as my eyes are shut."

She closed her eyes. Jak watched as the wind whipped her soft hair back, drying her face of tears. One more slipped down her cheek, and Jak reached out, brushing it away gently with a thumb.

She turned back to him, a sheepish grin now replacing the sorrowful expression.

"I'm sorry, Jak. I'm being selfish, dragging you down in all this..."

"You're not dragging me down. Sometimes it's just better to talk to somebody about this kind of thing. Especially someone who can relate. Who knows? Maybe that person wants to talk about it too."

Keira reached for his hand.

"Do you miss it as badly as I do?" she whispered, letting her fingers intertwine with his.

Jak nodded solemnly.

"I think I do," he replied quietly.

"Sometimes this helps..." Keira again turned her face to the water and closed her eyes. Jak knew she was imagining sitting on Sentinel Beach, ocean breezes playing with her hair.

Jak decided to humor her. He too faced the lake and closed his eyes. Shutting out the noises of the occasional zoomer passing behind them on the road, Jak allowed his mind to wander back to the past. With his eyes shut, he saw Sentinel all around him. Sand underfoot, ocean stretching out to the horizon, the stuffy warmth of the wind coming off of the lake transforming into a cool, salty breeze. He saw the sun meet the water in a gorgeous sunset, its fading rays dancing on the ocean surface. He felt at peace with the world for the first time in two years, sitting on his memory of a beach, Keira at his side.

He squeezed her hand gently. She returned the gesture, and Jak could feel her relax and lay her head on his shoulder. A rush of emotions clouded Jak's thoughts. Immense happiness at momentarily being home, peace from "seeing" a sunset for the first time since leaving Sandover, love for the young woman resting her head on his shoulder, and a deep sorrow for knowing he could not stay in his memory forever.

Just as his remembrance of a sunset dipped just below the edge of the water, he was pulled from his serene daydream when he felt Keira pull away.

"Jak?" she whispered.

He reluctantly forced his eyes open, turning to see what had distracted her.

A red Krimzon Guard zoomer was streaking down the road behind them, slowing when it approached the gun course. Its driver removed his safety helmet and slid out of the seat. Coming at the two at a brisk walk, Torn greeted them from a yard away.

"Hope I didn't catch you at a bad time..." the tattooed elf smirked at the pair's clasped hands. "I tried to call you, but neither of you were home. I thought I might find you out here."

He stopped in front of them, taking an intimidating stance towering above them.

"Is there something I can help you with?" Jak asked as politely as he could through gritted teeth.

"As a matter of fact," Torn began, face falling. "Yes, there is." He grunted, shifting his weight to the other foot. "Your girlfriend tells me you two were out at Dead Town the other night. I wouldn't bring this up, but as commander of the Krimzon Guard, I feel I have to. May I ask what the hell you were doing in a prohibited area in the middle of the night?"

Keira flinched as if she had been hit. She hadn't realized that by telling Torn about the scout, she'd be getting Jak into more trouble.

Jak set his jaw in an angry fashion.

"That's really none of your business."

"It is when the area was taped off. We don't just prance around and decorate the city with pretty yellow ribbon, Jak. That police tape was there for a reason."

"Forgive my ignorance, but wasn't it you that assigned me Dead Town while working for the Underground a few months back? Don't you think I know my way around?" Jak spat.

"That's not the point! You deliberately trespassed on forbidden territory. You saw that Metal Head out there, you know the risks you put both yourself and Keira at. And unless you just couldn't find a hotel room, I don't even see a legitimate reason for you two to have been out there," Torn returned, glaring down at Jak.

Furious, Jak released Keira's hand and got to his feet.

"I'd appreciate it if you'd stay out of my relationship with Keira, considering it's none of your damn business what we do," he whispered wrathfully.

"Then what the hell were you doing out there?" Torn yelled exasperatedly.

"I was showing her the hut, okay?" Jak yelled back, equally pissed. "She used to live there with her father. I thought she'd want to see it." His voice fell at the end of his explanation, knowing that Torn wouldn't, and couldn't, understand.

A confused expression crossed Torn's face.

"Long story," Jak sighed, glancing back at Keira and giving her a lopsided grin. "And I don't think either one of us really feels like talking about it right now."

Keira grabbed her sandals and keys and stood up alongside Jak. He took her free hand in his and turned back to Torn, a protective glare aimed at the commander.

Torn sighed and shook his head.

"Look, I'll waive the charges. But only because you're held in such high respect around here." He gave Jak a grin. "But don't get used to it, Blondie. Let's not make breaking the law a habit, alright?"

Jak let a relieved sigh escape his throat.

"That leaves this other matter concerning the scout," Torn continued.

Keira bit her lip anxiously. _'Please send another team...'_ she begged mentally.

Torn seemed to sense her nervousness and gave her a sympathetic look.

"I've already sent Harbor Convoy out to patrol the strip mine yesterday, and they're currently on a stake-out. Haven Armada, the rookie group, is still in training. That means Storm Fleet's got this one," he explained, shifting his gaze back to Jak.

"Damn," Keira swore under her breath.

Jak tightened his grip on her hand in a reassuring gesture.

"You expect an ambush, I presume?" Torn questioned.

"Yeah," Jak sighed. "If they're as organized as you say they've gotten."

"What about you, kid?" Torn directed at Keira. "Figured that gun out yet?"

Keira nodded numbly.

"We were just on our way to the range to practice," she added.

"You'd better get with it then. Storm Fleet's due at Underground headquarters in two hours for briefing," Torn warned.

"Holy yakcow! That's a little... sudden, don't you think?" Keira voiced incredulously, trying to mask her concern. Jak nodded in agreement.

"Like I said, I tried to call you earlier," Torn explained. "I hate to say it, because sooner or later someone was going to have to check it out and trigger the ambush anyway. But you did bring this upon yourselves," he finished, looking between Jak and Keira empathetically.

He pulled the helmet back over his head and nodded in their direction.

"I think I've wasted enough of your time. I'll leave you to practice."

The pair watched him saunter back to his zoomer and rev the motor before giving them a salute and speeding off.

"What do you think?" Jak asked, keeping his eyes on the zoomer until it disappeared around a corner. "You want to practice for a few minutes, or just go home and get ready?"

Keira hesitated for a moment, undecided.

"Let's just go home," she finally replied. "There's no sense in sticking around here if we were only going to be able to practice for five minutes anyway."

Jak walked her back to her zoomer in silence.

She climbed up and glanced around, a puzzled look crossing her face.

"Where's your ride?" she asked.

"Oh," Jak grinned, remembering his means of transportation. "I, uh, rode the jet-board. Hang on, I'll go get it."

He vanished through the lobby doors, reemerging with the board tucked under one arm.

Keira rolled her eyes and shook her head good-naturedly.

"Come on, I'll take you home," she laughed. Jak obliged, jumping on behind her and securing the board to the side of the vehicle.

"Whenever you're ready," he stated, arms encircling her waist for balance.

* * *

With instructions from Jak to head straight for her own hut, Keira edged her way through the busy traffic zones on the narrow roads. Still as speed- hungry as ever, she managed to keep the impatient weaving in and out to a minimum. It was a good eight minutes before they reached her mahogany colored house.

Keira killed the engine, pocketing the keys after jumping down off the zoomer. Jak followed, not bothering to remove the board from the vehicle's cargo strap.

Once inside, Keira headed into the bathroom.

"I'm going to clean up. Make yourself at home. I'll be out in a few..." she called through a crack in the door.

"Sure," Jak replied over the sound of running water. He flopped onto the couch, opposite the bathroom door. He watched Dawg trot cross the room towards him. He stopped in front of the couch, shifting his body into a crouching position. Jak raised an eyebrow as the dog pounced up on the lip of the sofa, fighting to bring his stubby back legs onto the cushy sofa.

"Are you allowed on the furniture?" Jak asked, amused. Nonetheless, he reached over to help the struggling mutt up. Dawg turned himself around in three tight circles before flopping down beside Jak, sighing with pleasure at his accomplishment. Jak rolled his eyes at the goofy hound.

After a few boring minutes, Jak found his gaze wandering around the room. He took in the empty fireplace, the neat little bookshelf, the open kitchen doorway, and finally settled his eyes on the crack in the bathroom door. Absentmindedly, he craned his neck to peer through the space. It almost startled him to see Keira's outline through the sliding shower doors. Because of its glazed glass material, he could only see her shapely silhouette, but it still made his heart thump in his chest. He grinned, realizing how similar this was to watching her through the green curtain in her garage downtown.

Suddenly, he became aware that he was watching Keira shower. Quickly, he averted his eyes. He felt color rising to his face Thinking that it would be best to remove himself from a position that might allow him to steal another glimpse through the cracked door, he stood from the sofa.

"Is it okay if I wait upstairs?" Jak asked loudly, trying to get Keira's attention. He waited, but received no answer. She must not have heard him. Shrugging, Jak wandered over to the stairs, slowly making his way to the second floor.

There was only one room at the top of the stairs, although it was large enough to house Keira's workshop. Upon moving into the two-story building, the mechanic had decided to relocate most of her tools and smaller projects into the roomy attic. It was easier for her to work upstairs than it was for her to drive across town to her garage.

Jak entered the workroom slowly. He glanced around, taking in the bench Keira had constructed herself, the metal shelves littered untidily with cans of gasoline, motor oil, and machine lubricator, and the vehicle ramps she had set against the wall for later use.

He took a few more steps into the room, still surveying. He smirked when he saw the patch of burnt rug in the corner and the dark stains on the floor around it. _'Bet that was fun to clean up...'_ he thought.

Jak made his way over to a desk in the back of the room. On it lay blueprints of some sort. Flipping the switch on the overhanging desk lamp, he peered closer at the plans. They portrayed an old fashioned zoomer at several different angles. His zoomer, he realized. It looked as if Keira had been coming up with ideas to install a few parts to the machine to spiff it up a bit. He grinned fondly, remembering how overprotective he had been with the orange vehicle just a few days before.

He clicked the lamp back off, turning to head back downstairs. As he tore his eyes form the prints, however, a leather-bound book caught his attention. It was the same tattered old journal Keira had rescued from the old hut the night before, lying on the desk off to the side. He stopped. Curiosity played with his thoughts, taunting him, practically daring him to take the book.

'_No, I told her I wouldn't invade her privacy,_' he scolded himself. _'But, what she doesn't know can't hurt her, right? I mean, what if I accidentally knocked it off the desk and it fell open? I can't be blamed for casually glancing over her entries...'_

'_Seriously, I can't betray Keira like that. She trusts me enough to let me wander around her house while she's down there taking a shower, and I can't bring myself to take advantage of her.' _Still, the worn pages called to him, begging him to open the book and take a look into Keira's thoughts. Even as he convinced himself to leave it alone, he found his hand reaching out for the journal. Surprised with his own action, he jerked the arm back, away from the book.

'_Look, I'll just take a quick peek,'_ he reasoned. '_If nothing really stands out, if it's all just her thoughts and feelings, I'll put it down.'  
_  
Glancing over his shoulder guiltily, Jak made sure that Keira hadn't come into the room. No approaching footsteps were heard, so he gently lifted the old journal off of the desk. As quietly as he could, he opened the book to a random page and began leafing through it. The pages were faded; some of the text was smeared beyond recognition due to moisture in the four hundred year-old hut. He turned the page again, coming across an entry that had been scribbled hastily. The words looked as though Keira had been excited when she wrote them, as the handwriting was a little less neat than the other pages. Shooting one last look at the door, Jak cleared his throat quietly and began to read.

_This whole thing is getting out of control. Gol is out of his mind, Daddy's missing, and I just know he was taken to the citadel like the other Sages. If they harm him... I don't know what I'll do. Jak went after them, but what if he can't stop them? I don't want to lose him too. He's been great this whole time, grabbing power cells left and right. He's the reason we've even made it this far. He's doing it all for Daxter, too. What a good friend. He's got this never-ceasing smile that just makes you want to laugh out loud. And those eyes... Lately I've been wrestling with these weird feelings toward Jak. We've always been close friends, and there is no doubt that he's good-looking...  
_  
Jak reddened slightly as he continued.

_...but now I catch myself getting lost in those eyes. There's something more there, I can feel it. It's not lust anymore. I think I may be in love with_…

Footsteps. Jak shut the journal quickly, putting it back on the desk where he found it. He turned away from the book to head out of the room, but found Keira blocking the door. She was now wearing dark jeans and a black t- shirt. She leaned against the wall and grinned at him.

"What are you doing up here?" she asked mischievously.

"Doing? I'm not doing anything. I was just looking at your blueprints for my zoomer. Interesting," he lied, being sure not to make eye contact.

She didn't respond. Instead, she turned and exited the room, calling over her shoulder, "We're gonna be late. Let's go!"

Jak sighed with relief. She hadn't seen him reading her journal. He followed her to the door, took one final glance at the diary, and headed back downstairs.

* * *

A/N: So, how'd I do? Yeah, it wasn't quite as action packed as I'd hoped it would have gotten, but I'll make it up to you in the next chapter. Seriously. As always, reviews are the lifeblood of the creating and updating of this fic, and are greatly appreciated. And, to my friends who are diligent in whacking me over the head and asking for the next chapter every day, I thank you, too. Plot Manager Joy and Editor Audrey, you know I owe you one. Just please don't make me do the Build a Bear dance again.

-Alternative Delirium


	7. Chapter 7: Ambush, Part 1

A/N: So I'm sitting here and I think, "I should finish that damn fic." So, after a year of being a recluse, I've decided to start (and finish) revising and move on. Only two more chapters to write.

* * *

The Metal Head growled in frustration, trying his best to lick at his wounded leg.

"How many?" a venomous voice demanded, calling his attention back to his superior. The scout glanced back at the slinger, glowering.

"Well?" the slinger prompted again, growing impatient. "How many were there?"

"Just the two," the scout snapped back, attempting to keep the pain out of his tone. "Or, at least, as far as I could tell."

"Did they both see you?"

"Affirmative."

The slinger spat, disgusted with his inferior. Curling his lip into a snarl, he added under his breath, "This presents a problem."

Combining rage with pain, the scout gathered enough courage to rebut.

"And why is that? It wasn't my stupid mistake to dispatch a platoon so close to the city. You knew the risks when it first came to mind; don't try to pin this on me."

"I will not hear of your complaints!" the latter cried in a dominating influence. "You deserved all that came to you, Cavil. Just count yourself lucky that the bullet didn't penetrate your heart. That boy is hardly known to miss."

Quivering with another flash of sharp pain shooting up his left back leg, Cavil the scout ignored the comment.

"You will be reprimanded for your colossal idiocy of a mistake. Guards?" he called, turning in the direction of a loitering group of his comrades. Two of the beasts snapped to attention, placing themselves at either side of their commander. Then, focusing his gaze back on Cavil, the slinger announced, "To the cells. Do not permanently damage his memory, for I may have need to question him further."

Fear entered the scout's gleaming eyes.

"The master will hear of this, Kail," Cavil whimpered as the guards grabbed him under the arms and began to drag him away. "He will not be pleased with you!"

"Oh, the master will indeed hear of this," Kail crooned confidently. "But as for his mood, I would worry more of what he will decide to do with you. Take him away."

The guards yanked heavily on Cavil's arms, a howl of pain escaping the scout's throat as they pulled him along.

Kail sighed, turning back to his expansive view of Dead Town atop the ruined tower. More bad news. Cavil, the scout that had been posted at the northeastern section of the area the night before, had claimed to have followed two beings halfway through Dead Town and to the old hut in it's far corner. He had been spotted, and the result of his carelessness was the bullet wound in his back leg. Somehow he had managed to escape alive. It had taken him the rest of the night and part of the morning to come out of hiding and make his way to Kail to relay the message. He had given a vague description of each of the beings, making it clear that he had been downed by the infamous Jak of Haven.

A malevolent grin settled itself across Kail's face. As unfortunate as this event had been, it proved one purpose. With this new information, Kail had formed somewhat of a plan to not only fix the mess, but gain the upper hand in a war that was undoubtedly looming in the future as well. He was quite certain that it would work, if only he could find a way to sneak into the city long enough to abduct the girl...

* * *

"Just stay alert. And the very best of luck to each of you," Torn finished from behind his desk, hands clasped on its surface.

Daxter leapt from Jak's shoulder and onto the desk.

"Torn, buddy, you know I've always liked you," the ottsel began nervously, trying to weasel his way out of his situation.

"Sorry Fur Face, you're not getting out of this one. Jak may need an extra pair of eyes," Torn interrupted, smashing any hopes of sitting the mission out that the rodent possessed.

Daxter let the wind hiss out of his lungs in a rush. "Figures," he sighed, hopping back down.

The crowded room soon began to empty, it's occupants funneling out the door into the sunshine. Jak lingered, feeling the intensity of Torn's gaze on the back of his neck. When all but he, Keira and Daxter had left the base, Torn got up from his desk and cornered them near the door.

"They're in your hands, Jak. Use good judgment and make the best decisions possible," he lectured soberly, eyeing Jak with a cautious reserve. Jak nodded his head in reply, the beginnings of an amused grin pulling at the corners of his mouth. Torn moved his focus to Daxter and sneered down at the furry rodent. "You just keep out of his way," he snapped, hooking a thumb towards Jak. "And you," he added, now turning to face Keira.

Keira stiffened slightly as Torn addressed her. She seemed nervous, almost frightened.

"Stay out of trouble. I want you to fight from a distance; none of this hand to hand stuff. The farther you are from the Metal Heads, the farther you are from putting the team in danger. He's got enough to worry about as it is," he finished, again motioning to Jak with a jerk of his head. Jak looked shocked at his announcement, but not displeased. Torn gave him a grim smile and headed out the door.

As it closed behind him, he added, "Let's not screw this one up, shall we?"

Keira pulled her gaze away from the door as Torn vanished, fixing Jak with a curious look. She plainly wanted to know what Torn had meant by his little speech, but Jak avoided the unspoken question by turning his head and rubbing the back of his neck absentmindedly. It was really quite an obvious explanation. Torn knew as well as anybody that Jak would abandon foe and friend alike to keep an eye on Keira. If anything happened to befall her, he would scrap the mission in a heartbeat to look after her.

"Well, you heard the man," Dax piped up from the floor, mock- enthusiastically. "Onward, to our doom!"

Jak laughed dryly, acknowledging Daxter's attempt at humor, but also hoping that he wasn't right.

Daxter led the way, marching determinedly out the door. Jak followed, glancing quickly up at Keira as he passed her. The frustrated expression on her face was enough to tell him that she wasn't going to drop it. As soon as all three were outside and making their way to the light violet zoomer parked near the alley, Keira posed her inquiry.

"Jak, what was he talking about?" she demanded, oblivious to his reddened face. "What does he mean, 'stay out of trouble?' We're walking right into an ambush, and he wants me to stay out of trouble? What the hell is he..."

"Can I drive?" Jak blurted, holding his hand out for the keys. He was willing to do almost anything to make her leave it alone. It was not the best time to be having this discussion.

Keira stopped mid-sentence, closing her mouth agitatedly and digging in her pocket for the keys. She kept a suspicious eye on Jak as she handed them to him, noting that he would not make eye contact with her.

"You know, don't you?" she pressed.

"Know what?" he replied, perhaps a little too quickly.

"You big liar!" she accused, a tiny smile playing with her serious expression. "Don't think I don't know you well enough to be able to tell when you're not giving me the truth."

Jak tried his best to look taken aback by her comment, failing miserably.

"Honest to God, Keir. I have no idea what you're talking about," he tried, focusing his guilty stare on the vehicle as he climbed up, Daxter taking his usual perch on his right shoulder.

"Yeah right," she scoffed, straddling the zoomer and letting her arms enfold Jak's waist loosely. "You know I'm just going to find out sooner or later. Next time I see Torn, I'm going to make it a point to ask him."

Jak grimaced.

"You should do that," he agreed slowly, trying to shake her suspicion.

"You know, if you would do a little more driving and a little less yapping, we'd probably have been there by now!" Daxter complained loudly. "You can fight later."

"We're not fighting!" both Jak and Keira began to correct the ottsel.

Daxter covered his ears and clamped his eyes shut. "DRIVE!" he yelled, overriding the two's persistent conversation. Jak pushed the key into the ignition and hit the gas irritably.

* * *

They pulled to a stop between two hovercars three minutes later. Jak handed the keys back to Keira, hating the knowing look she shot him.

Daxter kept his seat on Jak's shoulder, pointing ahead at the indention in the ground that indicated Dead Town's entrance. There were two people waiting for them at the first sliding door. Jak grinned, recognizing Tess as one of the sentries.

As they approached, Tess waved energetically at the three. Daxter slicked back the small tuft of fur on the top of his head and smiled as seductively as he could.

"Hey baby," he called. "How goes the good fight?"

Tess smiled up at the charming little animal and then exchanged glances with Jak as he helped Keira into the ditch.

"Hey guys," she greeted. "No one's gone in yet. They're all waiting for their captain," she added, answering Daxter's question and motioning at Jak.

"Are you on Storm Fleet?" Keira asked curiously.

Tess shook her head.

"Nope, I'm a drifter. Torn sends me with whatever team he feels could use the most back up. I'm just here for the one mission."

Keira paled at the mention of needing back up. Tess gave her a quick, apologetic look.

"Oh, I'm sure it won't be that bad," she assured her friend. "There probably won't be many Metal Heads, and it'll be over in a few minutes tops." She smiled, trying to convince Keira that this was a very basic defensive, easily won and without any casualties.

Keira forced a tense grin and nodded, left hand frantically searching for Jak's. He took her hand firmly, his calm vibe radiating through their link. She stole a deep breath and let it out slowly, the panic ebbing slightly.

"You ready to do this?" he asked gently.

"Yeah," she whispered. "Let's get it over with."

Tess signaled to the other sentry to enter, then followed as the first door slid open. Jak walked forward into the connecting chamber with Keira, nodding in greeting to the rest of the team. They all stood at the ready, weapons out and loaded. Jak reached for his holster and removed his own Morph Gun, swapping the Blaster with the Vulcan Fury. Keira did the same.

Letting go of Keira's hand to ready his gun, Jak asked the roomful of warriors, "You guys ready to kick some ass?"

A cheer ran through the consolidated group, shouts of approval echoing off of the walls.

The second door began to grind its way open at a sign from Jak, and Keira closed her eyes and prayed silently that this would all soon be over.

She felt his breath on her neck when he leaned over to whisper, "I'm right here, Keira. I've got your back on this one. I swear I won't let those things touch you. I..." his voice trailed off, whatever he was about to say drowned out in the commotion of sudden gunfire. She flinched, not expecting to witness violence so soon on the expedition.

"Just stay close to me," Jak yelled over the noise, quickly flicking the tracer beam on.

Shouts and the echo of gunfire exploded into the mid-afternoon air as both sides made a rush at one another. Keira had a split second to assess the situation before Storm Fleet overtook her and pulled her into the current of screaming warriors. There appeared to be an estimate of twenty Metal Heads, give or take a few. They formed a small group, solid and divvied into five ranks of four. The first rank held diminutive metal shields, poorly fashioned and worn with use. The two ranks behind were unarmed completely, save for their weapons of tooth and claw, and the last two lines held firearms that looked identical to the Morph Gun that she and Jak were armed with. Something inside her head clicked when she glimpsed the guns, but she had little time to think about it as she was pushed toward the enemy.

The Metal Heads charged forward, the first monsters clashing with Jak's foremost line in a ferocious rage. Jak's eyes flashed to Keira, his mind racing. He gripped the Vulcan Fury with one hand, reaching out with the other to yank Keira back with him. She glanced at him worriedly, then readied her gun. The Metal Heads were seeping through Storm Fleet, heading to the back of the group in an attempt to surround them. Jak caught sight of one sprinting at Tess from behind. He aimed quickly and fired, catching the beast in the throat. It dropped lifelessly to the ground with a smothered howl. He turned in time to blast another that had been sparring with one of his, succeeding in puncturing its metal plated chest. It flipped around violently, eyes rolling. Its gaze focused on Jak, and it ran at him, screaming. Jak made ready to fire again, but the animal was knocked off course by another three rounds. Jak looked around for the source of his assist and saw Keira standing near him, weapon still aimed shakily at the dead monster.

Again looking about the battlefield for an inventory of soldiers, Jak noted that all but seven or eight Metal Heads lay slain on the dirt packed ground. A plan quickly put itself together in his mind, a simple way to end the ambush instantly. He yelled over the commotion to Keira, motioning for her to follow. She stumbled over to him, and Jak led her behind and around Storm Fleet. They splashed through the murky water and up onto another portion of land, halting to catch their breath.

"Set it to Vulcan," Jak ordered, nodding at the gun Keira held tightly. Obeying, she switched the weapon's mode hastily. Jak cleared his throat and cupped his hands to his mouth.

"Pull back!" he yelled to the remainder of the team. Confused, Storm Fleet began to slowly inch back towards Jak and Keira, parrying blows from their attackers.

"What are we doing?" Keira whispered in distress. "We can hold the rest of them off..."

Jak interrupted her with a silencing gesture of his hand.

"Get down," he demanded, crouching on one knee. She followed suit, her breath coming in panicky gasps.

Soon, the entire team had been positioned behind them. The Metal Heads were baffled with Jak's command, debating on what to do next. They stood for a moment on the opposite shore, then began to pursue them through the water.

"On my word," he began, speaking softly in Keira's ear, "Pull the trigger. Hold on to it and don't let go." She gave him a tiny nod, eyes fixed on the approaching adversaries.

"Now!"

She squeezed the trigger, holding it down as the rounds came faster and faster, until the Vulcan was spitting bullets like a machine gun. Jak was doing the same, cursing the monsters with wave after unstoppable wave of fury. The Metal Heads were mown down, one after another, in the wake of shrapnel dealt out by the pairs' Morph Guns.

The last of the beasts fell, a strangled cry cut off in its throat. Jak ceased fire, and glanced at Keira. She was still shooting into the abyss, eyes clenched shut and jaw set against the powerful back kick. Jak smiled wearily, reaching out to rest a hand on her shoulder. She opened one eye slowly, allowing the gun to spin to a stop. She opened the other eye and looked out across the battleground. Not one Metal Head was left standing. Letting the gun slip out of her fingers, she turned back to Jak. He gave her a warm grin.

"We did it, Keira," he soothed. "We won."

She kneeled, dazed for a moment. Then, she threw herself into his arms, wrapping her own around his neck and resting her forehead against his chest.

"Oh, thank God," she whispered. "Thank God. Thank God, thank God, thank God, thank..."

"Okay, okay," Jak laughed. "I get it." He stroked her hair affectionately, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "It's over. No more Metal Heads." He felt her shiver. He enveloped her in his arms, holding her tightly for a moment. "You did great, Keir. You really did."

"I... I thought I was going to die out there. I was so scared..." she confided, her voice trembling.

"But you kicked ass, Keira. You showed those morons what you're made of."

Keira raised her face and rested her eyes on Jak.

"I did, didn't I?" she asked, the beginnings of a smile appearing on her face.

Jak grinned back. He started to reply, but the words were cut off in his throat by an eruption of cheering. They both turned to find the whole of Storm Fleet whooping and yelling at one another, slapping high fives and pounding one another on the back.

Jak smiled, watching the others celebrate their victory. He noticed Tess had picked Daxter up off of the ground and was in the midst of delivering an energetic kiss to the top of his furry head. Daxter's hind leg began to thump the air in pleasure.

The rejoicing soon ended however, as a sudden shot was fired from somewhere over the rise behind them. Jak twirled around immediately, holding on to Keira and diving with her out of the line of fire. They landed a few feet away, sprawled out on the ground.

"Are you alright?" he asked anxiously.

"I think so," she replied, rubbing the back of her head with her hand.

Jak glanced over her shoulder at the crumbling wall where the gunfire had sounded. His breath caught in his throat. There, climbing over the wall and onto the battlefield was another unit of Metal Heads. Fifty strong, almost fully armed, and led by a slinger.

* * *

A/N: Joy, please don't kill me. I know you hate me for not getting the chapter to you first, but in order to finish the story, I have to be able to breathe. So remove the rusty pickaxe from my windpipe. Oh, and I'm sorry about the whole cliffhanger thing. Really.

Reviews are always welcomed, and I thank every one of you who have taken the time to submit one. Audrey, sorry I couldn't get the stupid thing to you sooner. I'm going to go hibernate now.

-Alternative Delirium


	8. Chapter 8: Ambush, Part 2

A/N: And so the next installment is finally posted. I really hope that it'll be easier for me to update during the summer, seeing as how I am doing a terrible job so far what with this thing they call "school." Heh, not like I'm actually learning anything. When I'm sitting in class, "listening" to the lectures, I'm really just zoning out, thinking about my wandering plot. And then I have a crapload of homework every bloody night... It's the fourth quarter, and these locker Nazis still insist on piling on the papers. In fact, I have a Constitution test tomorrow, one that I have to pass in order to avoid repeating my eighth grade year. And here I am, updating and sacrificing my precious study time for you guys. Aren't I great?

* * *

"Oh God," Keira whimpered, peering over her shoulder at the rise. The slinger brought his army to a halt, positioning them strategically around the lip of the crumbling wall. Storm Fleet was surrounded.

Daxter took one glance at the reinforcements and screamed. Stumbling away from Tess as fast as his legs would carry him, he ran full steam into Keira's back, falling over backward.

Jak gaped at the enemy as they growled and shifted in their places. Daxter regained his feet and shook his head. His eyes came into focus and wandered back to the awaiting platoon of Metal Heads. He choked another yelp and shot behind Jak, using him as a shield from the monsters' vision.

Storm Fleet had grouped together in the middle of the enclosure, standing in a circle with their backs to its center. The entire team had fallen silent upon the beasts' appearance. Every one of them was frightened and tired. Jak knew that there was no way his troops could hold out against fifty Metal Heads. They were outrageously outnumbered, and they were exhausted from the previous clash.

Jak pushed himself off of the ground, reaching for his gun that lay holstered at his waist. He quickly removed it, swapping the Vulcan Fury for the Scatter. Keira did the same, frightened eyes flicking from wall to monster-infested-wall.

A moment of heavy silence followed. Not a sound echoed through the soon-to- be-body-laden arena. Then...

A wild shriek tore itself from a Metal Head grunt as it flew at the poised team, an inhuman fury glinting fiercely in its deadly eye. A warrior from Storm Fleet spun around and raised his weapon to the beast's chest in one fluid motion. Time seemed to speed up after the shot was fired, sending the creature hurling back in the direction it had come from, accompanied by a roar of pain as it slammed into the ruined wall.

Given that cue, the remainder of the Metal Head platoon released a collective scream of rage. The slinger, undoubtedly the commanding officer, stood on his hind legs and signaled to his inferiors to attack, roaring some crude order in their native tongue. They willingly obliged, leaping from the rock lip and onto the dirt-packed ground below, never breaking stride as they made an offensive rush at the group of wearisome warriors.

Jak forced his brain into another session of immediate planning. What to do? The monsters had breached the front line, and the sounds of gunshot and deafening screams and yells from both foe and friend alike were puncturing the preceding stillness. Instinctively, Jak turned away from Keira, facing the other direction. He pressed his back up against hers and took aim at the nearest Metal Head.

The monstrosity went down after the third bullet entered its heart.

Keira felt weak against his back. She trembled, and her heartbeat was abnormally rapid. But, nonetheless, she shot at any Metal Head she could get her tracer beam on.

The battle raged. Minutes passed entirely too fast, each one just as violent and reckless as the last. Jak ran out of Scatter ammo, and swiftly switched the mode to Blaster, and returned fire.

The Metal Heads were beginning to take things a little more seriously. They drew their Morph Guns, clumsily shooting back at Storm Fleet. It was clear that they had little experience with the guns, as their bullets went wild each time. But a stray bullet is still as deadly as one that hits its mark, and Jak knew it. He knocked Keira backward, sending her back to the hard ground. He dropped as well, crawling into a position to take out another of the creatures before it had a chance to fire.

It was only when a human cry of agony caught Jak's attention that he realized things were going badly. A warrior had fallen, not twenty feet away from where he and Keira crouched. The man struggled to move his legs, churning up dust from the dry ground. His enemy stood above him, bringing back its razor-like paw for the final blow.

Jak ground his teeth in anger and squeezed off several rounds into the animal's chest. It yelped helplessly before it crashed to the ground, falling forward onto its dying victim.

Keira made a move before Jak could object. She ran to the wounded man, kneeling in the dust his frantically thrashing limbs were creating. Cursing, Jak followed.

Another beast sprang at Keira's back as she knelt by the warrior. Jak took it out in mid air with a succession of four rapid rounds. He reached the two and crouched by Keira's side.

"What the hell are you doing?" he yelled. "You're going to get us killed!"

She ignored his impatience.

"Help me get this thing off him," she pleaded desperately, indicating the dead Metal Head crushing the man's legs. She moved to his other side, making a futile attempt to pull the limp animal off of the warrior. Jak went to the opposite side and placed his shoulder level with the monster's and pushed heavily. The body gave way, sliding off with their combined efforts.

Keira returned to the man's side. He was now making gurgling noises in his throat, his white eyes searching the faces above him. Jak grimaced at the sight, but Keira swallowed her panic and tried to soothe the man.

"Shh." She spoke in a low tone, her voice wavering only slightly. "You're going to be okay. Just stay with me. Hey, look. Look at me. What's your name?"

The warrior shivered and twitched involuntarily. His chest heaved with the effort of breathing. Finally, he closed his eyes and managed, "Grant. Grant Lucero. Tell my wife," he went on, now forcing the words because he knew he was losing his grip on life. "Tell her I..."

"No, you can tell her," Keira interrupted firmly. "You're going to pull out of this."

"And the kids. My children. Let them know I went out fighting. Do this for me," Grant continued, his eyes losing their light.

"Keira, c'mon! Let him go," Jak insisted, reaching for her arm. "He's not gonna make it. And if we stay out here much longer, we're not going to get out of here alive, either.

Keira shook her head stubbornly, a sympathy filled tear sliding gently down her cheek. But there was no denying it; Grant Lucero was gone.

"I'll tell them," she whispered, reaching to close the dead man's eyes.

"C'mon," Jak urged. He was already on his feet, pulling at Keira's arm to do the same. She got up and followed Jak at a sprint back to their post. They kneeled down behind a piece of wall that had been blown off of the crumbling ruins and caught their breath.

Jak saw Keira's expression, the pain and horror she was feeling reflected in her eyes.

"Keira, I'm sorry, love. There was just no way you could have saved him," he said gently, trying to reassure her, but going about it the wrong way.

She put her head in her hand, unable to comment.

Sighing impatiently with his own ignorance, he tried again. "Come here, sweetheart."

Willingly, she slid into his arms. He held her for a short while, wishing that he could keep her there longer, but knowing that it was too risky out in the open.

"You did everything you could," he soothed. "He's in a better place now."

She nodded weakly against his chest. He pulled away from the embrace tenderly and tilted her chin so that he could look into her eyes.

A loud roar sounded through the area, a noise that meant the Metal Heads were regrouping for the second offensive. Jak and Keira broke eye contact immediately and peered over the rock's edge. All of the monsters were pulling back, but not as a retreat. They circled back as a single wave and came again at the tiring Storm Fleet. With the absence of Metal Heads among its ranks, Jak could see that Grant was not the only one to fall as casualty. Two others lay on the dirt, motionless.

An indefinable rage was boiling inside of Jak. These bastard creatures were taking the lives of men who deserved to live out the rest of their time with their families, and for what? To secure Dead Town? The most irrelevant location anywhere near Haven? It was a savage, cruel, unmistakably stupid move on the Metal Heads' part. And Jak intended to put a stop to it.

Turning back to Keira, he put his hands on the sides of her face and stared fiercely into her.

"I want you to stay here and lay low," he began, having to raise his voice over her instant protests.

"No, don't leave me, Jak, please, I don't want to lose you..." she sobbed powerlessly.

"Enough. I've got to go, Keira. This has got to stop, and Storm Fleet needs my help. You stay here. If you got hurt, I'd never forgive myself. Do what Torn told you to do and fight from a distance. Please," he finished, his intense gaze making her realize that there was nothing she could do to stop him.

Biting back the tears, she took a shaky breath.

"You be careful, Jak," she warned affectionately.

"You know I will," he smiled. He started to get up and run out to his comrades, but something held him back. He turned back to Keira and brought his face close to hers, tilting her chin to the side. He stole a quick, but meaningful kiss from her lips and left his hand on her face as he pulled away.

"Keira, I love..."

An earsplitting screech shattered the moment before Jak could get the last word past his lips. Forgetting all but the battle being fought without him, he got to his feet again.

"Stay down!" he ordered the young woman over his shoulder, racing off into combat.

She sobbed in reply, cutting the noise off in her throat halfway.

There was no time to think about Keira's emotional welfare at the moment. Jak leapt to the side of his companions, gun at the ready.

A few of the warriors looked relieved when Jak appeared at the frontlines, and soon the majority of Storm Fleet began to regroup behind their unquestioned leader, weapons blazing.

A grunt rushed at the cluster of troops, but was turned away by the never- ceasing fire that erupted from the warrior's guns. It half-circled in a false retreat, then came back at them, jaws gnashing viciously. Jak procrastinated on the kill, waiting until the beast was no more than a yard away from his vulnerable throat.

He stepped forward, jabbing the butt of his Morph Gun into the creature's trachea violently. There was a harsh snap, and the monster collapsed. Jak flipped the gun around, aimed at its head, and shot for good measure.

It seemed no use to fight these creatures. For every Metal Head that had been felled, another crept over the ledge and onto the battlefield to take its place. This tiny war was being fought in vain. The Metal Head troops remained fresh, while Storm Fleet slowly used up the rest of their energy. They wouldn't hold out much longer.

There was only one thing for it, Jak decided.

"Fall back!" he called to his team, again swapping the gun's mod. "Get behind me!"

The few warriors that had not already pulled behind Jak began to inch towards the majority of their teammates. Jak took aim at the onslaught of unfeeling creatures and pulled on the trigger, holding it back for as long as he could before the monsters were upon him. The Peacemaker hummed with a ferocious power as Jak charged the attack. He pointed the barrel at the middle of the enemy, releasing the trigger at the opportune moment.

For a fleeting second, fear was the only emotion in the beasts' hard, cold eyes. And then there was nothing. The blast had wiped out all life within the thirty-foot radius that the round had penetrated, bringing down thirteen of the adversary and causing an electric wave of deadly energy to crackle around the bodies, transferring from one corpse to another.

Seven more reinforcements crawled over the lip of the rise.

"Jesus, they just keep coming!" someone from behind yelled in angst.

Jak silently agreed with the troop's attitude, but didn't waste his breath in response. Holding back on the trigger once more, he sent a slightly weaker blast into the Metal Heads. The discharge took out nine more of the determined animals, only to be replaced by five grunts. They were winning in the long run, but this was really going to wear them out.

With the aid of his team, Jak removed twenty-some-odd more of the monsters before he was distracted.

Keira screamed.

"Jak!" she begged over the clamor of the battle. "Help!"

Instantly, he headed back to the fallen ruin where he had left Keira. Recklessly, he plowed through the crowds, knocking aside anyone or anything that stood in his way.

"I'm coming!" he called back worriedly. "I'm coming, Keira!"

He dodged past two of his own dueling it out with a crab-head and leapt deftly over a Metal Head corpse. Keira shouted again.

"Hurry, Jak! There are too many..."

She was cut off. Jak quickened his pace, taking the piece of rock wall like a hurdle. He glanced around urgently.

"Keira! Keira, where are you?" he yelled.

A small portion of the Metal Head platoon stood off to his right. They had cornered someone against the high wall. Jak threw his Peacemaker down; no time to switch the mod. He ran head on into the group, throwing punches and executing a spin-kick with a renewed vigor. Keira was in trouble; he would not stop fighting until she was safely enclosed in his arms. He struck out at any beast that dared to defy his rescue. One of the grunts took a timed swipe at Jak, tracing a long scratch down his chest.

With a cry of pain, Jak kicked out at the monster and took his life with a vicious uppercut. Out of the corner of his eye, he glimpsed Keira. She was backed up against the wall, empty Morph Gun held like a club. She was terrified. It was plain on her face. But she bravely stood what little ground she had gained, taking a swing at the heavy skull of a ground troop.

Jak finished off the Metal Head he had been wrestling and forced his way through the few creatures left standing to Keira's side. She glanced at him gratefully, the panic still very apparent in her expression. Jak wanted nothing more than to hold her, to kiss her fears away, to see her flash that warm, bright smile that he loved. But they were in the middle of a crisis, and there was absolutely no time to spare.

"Hang in there, Keir," Jak encouraged. "Just hang on."

A metal mantis lunged at the two, striking out with its razor-like claws. Jak feigned to the left, barely dodging the lethal blow.

Keira was not so lucky.

The follow-through caught her on the right side of her abdomen. She threw her head back, eyes shut tight against the pain. She cried out, the sound tearing Jak's heart in half.

"Keira!" he shouted, eyes immediately focused on the bloody gash left as a result. Her hands reached down to apply pressure to the wound, but her legs fell out from underneath her before she could find out how deep a cut it was.

This was too much. Jak was officially extremely pissed off. He couldn't hold the rage inside anymore. The second Keira hit the ground, he lost control.

A tingling sensation ran through his body, as if a mild electric current was being pumped through him. In a few precious seconds, he had become the demon, a child of Dark Eco. With a wild scream of fury, Jak slashed at the Metal Heads surrounding Keira and himself. Several went down with the first attack. Astonishment showed in the creatures' dumbfounded movements, some trying to scramble away and others simply staring at the angry figure before them.

Jak tore after the monsters that had fled, quickly catching up and reducing their lives to nil. In his frenzied rage, he didn't realize how far away he had wandered from Keira's side. He kept at it, slicing at Metal Heads with those black talon-like nails, pit-dark eyes betraying no other emotion but hatred. All he saw was red; every bulky object registered as an enemy, and he took no hesitation in destroying it. He hardly noticed that the preponderance of the Metal Head army was pulling a full retreat. He chased them down, every one he could catch.

At last, the monsters began to vanish back over the rise. Jak had no intention of letting them escape, and proved this with his next action. Jumping into the air, Jak landed on the ground fist-first, creating an enormous thud and sending a powerful current of Dark Eco through the hard dirt. As it always did when executing a Dark Bomb attack, time seemed to slow down. All the dark energy channeling through his body seeped out of him and into the ground. He felt faint, and he stumbled backward, unbalanced. Putting a hand to his forehead, he tried to remember what he had just done.

_'I was protecting Keira and I...'_

"Keira!" he exclaimed, recalling what his previous task had been. He turned, tripping over his own feet from exhaustion, but quickly regaining his balance.

All around him, the warriors were shouting and whooping once again with the victory. As he passed them, they tried to get his attention, but he merely ignored them. He had to get to Keira, and fast.

Rounding the corner and facing the wall that he and Keira had been trapped near, he stopped suddenly. She wasn't there.

Urgently, he pushed himself forward, scouring the area for any sign of her. All he found was the blood stained dirt where she had fallen.

He fell to his knees numbly. That was it. They had taken her.

Keira was gone.

* * *

A/N: Another cliffy. Don't you just wanna tear my head off? Too bad you don't know where I am right now, or who I am exactly. Otherwise I'd be in some trouble. But you know I'll make up for it. I'm just about done with the next chapter, so depending on how quickly my editors work, I might even be able to update again this month.

To Audrey and Joy: Thanky, thanky, thanky. You are superior to me in all grammatical ways.

-Alternative Delirium


	9. Chapter 9: Betrayal

A/N: Here's your long awaited chapter.

* * *

"C'mon, pal. Buck up," Daxter urged gently. It was evening now, and dusk was beginning to soften the horizon's edges to a mix of lavender and navy blue. Jak hadn't said much from the moment they had left Dead Town, but Daxter could feel his grief radiating off of him as if it were heat. "She'll turn up."

Jak didn't offer a reply. He walked on, Daxter bouncing softly on his shoulder with the rhythm of his stride.

It was unfortunate that Keira had taken the zoomer keys with her when she vanished... Jak and Daxter were forced to walk home. Jak was in no hurry, and it had taken them this long to make the trek back to the south side of the city.

A cool night breeze blew in from the river, tugging at Jak's dense blonde hair. A memory from just this morning flashed through his mind. He and Keira were sitting at the harbor, reminiscing about old times in Sandover, tricking their minds into thinking that they sat on Sentinel Beach.

_And now she's gone,_ he sobbed inwardly. _And I probably won't see her again. I never got to tell her that I love her. And she's gone...  
_  
He gritted his teeth, forcing back the tears that pricked at his eyes.

_Not now. It won't do any good. Not with Daxter right there..._

He felt Daxter's gaze burn into his face. He tried to ignore it, but Dax just kept staring. He snapped his head to the left and glared at the orange rodent.

"What?" he demanded, his voice husky from neglect.

Daxter was shooting him a piteous look. "We'll find her, buddy," he promised, patting the shoulder he was perched on. "Even if we have to tear that place apart, we'll find her."

Jak wished he could appreciate Daxter's determination to cheer him up, but in his present mood, he wanted nothing more than to make him shut up. It hurt too much to talk about. Hearing it or saying it made it real, and he wasn't ready to face that just yet. But the ottsel wasn't finished, and he made one last effort to give his friend strength.

"I'll bet Samos will have something worked out..."

Jak's stomach knotted. Samos. In his despair, he'd forgotten about the issue of having to break the news to Keira's father. He groaned mournfully at the thought, the tears fighting through his closed eyelids. This exasperation was enough to top it all off, and he gave in, turning his head the other direction to hide his wet face from his furry friend.

But Daxter saw the tears glistening down his cheeks, catching the moonlight just right. He understood and fell silent, distracting himself with counting the bricks that made up the walls of the tiny warehouses along the road long enough to let his best friend cry.

Jak composed himself as quickly as he could. This wasn't the time or place for this kind of thing. Clearing his throat with a harsh cough, he tried to look nonchalant. He felt he needed to say something to break the silence, something to cover up his brief breakdown. He searched his mind and asked the first thing that felt relevant.

"So, what were you talking to her about? Keira I mean. A few days back."

Daxter gave him a mildly puzzled look.

"The morning she showed up at the hut. I, uh, wasn't wearing any pants," he explained further, an embarrassed grin playing at the corners of his mouth for a split second.

Comprehension dawned on Daxter's fuzzy face, followed by an expression of controlled amusement.

"Oh," he began, trying not to laugh. "You mean, when I was talking about the dream, and you thought I was telling her that you..." he trailed off, watching Jak nod his head in agreement. The rest didn't need to be brought up.

"Well," he continued, jumping on the chance to redeem himself. "That night, after we went back to sleep, I had this dream, see. I dreamt that there was a doughnut sitting on the counter at the Ottsel. You know, one of those round ones, with the chocolate icing? One of those. And I jumped up on the counter to pick it up. But it slipped out of my fingers and kind of hung in the air. I tried to grab it again, but it floated away from me and I fell off the counter and landed sprawled out on the floor. Only, when I got up again, it wasn't the Ottsel. It was the sewers. And that doughnut was still there, but it was gett'n bigger. And then it turned into Krew. Then I woke up and had this monster craving for mayonnaise. Now, you explain that to me."

Jak couldn't hide the smile that replaced his guarded expression from Daxter's humorous story.

"Don't know what to tell you, Dax. Although, that does explain where that jar of mayonnaise went overnight," he commented, helping to keep the lighthearted mood.

Daxter smiled at the boy gratefully. Hopefully, Jak would continue to be this optimistic for the remainder of the night. In the morning, he would help him search for any trace of Keira. He knew how much Jak must love her, and how much it must hurt for him to admit that she was gone. Besides, he was Keira's friend, too. He had an obligation to help search... even if they didn't like what they found.

* * *

Daxter woke suddenly, prying his sleepy eyelids open and waiting for his vision to come into focus. He looked around. It was still dark; his internal clock was way off. Just as he was beginning to sink back into sleep, he knew why he had been jolted awake. Something was wrong.

Normally, he would wake up in the morning to find Jak still asleep in the other bed, clutching his pillow as if it were something precious, his even breathing loud enough to hear in the next room. But there was no breathing coming from Jak's bed tonight.

Daxter pushed himself out of bed, and slid onto the floor, feet first. Silently, he checked the bathroom door. It was open. No one was in there. He crept around the doorframe to the kitchen and peeked in. The fluorescent light that hung over the sink was on, as it always was in the night, but Jak wasn't sitting at the table like Daxter thought he would be.

Getting worried, the ottsel hopped up on the window ledge to look outside. Jak was out there, sitting on the cement step closest to the ground. Relief washed over Daxter, only to be replaced by a curiosity as to what Jak was doing.

From the ledge, Dax reached out for the doorknob and turned it as discreetly as he could. The lock clicked softly, and Daxter leapt from the windowsill and out onto the tiny porch, not bothering to shut the door behind him.

Jak knew he was there, but preferred to ignore him. His head rested in his hands, and until now he had managed to withhold the pain that was so apparent in his eyes. He didn't even glance at Daxter as the ottsel seated himself lightly by his friend's side.

Daxter took a deep breath of the cool night air, announcing that he was there, willing to talk if Jak needed to.

"Ah, nothing like a little fresh air to clear the mind, eh buddy?" he commented flippantly. "What brings you out here at this time of the night?"

"Go back to bed, Dax," Jak sighed heavily. "I know you want to make this better, but you can't. Thanks for being there, but you shouldn't waste your time trying to give me false hope. Go to bed."

Daxter looked up at his companion sorrowfully. Jak didn't meet his gaze, but stared out at the lonely road that ran behind the hut instead.

Daxter set his jaw determinedly. If Jak wasn't going to give up this melancholy mood of his own free will, than he would force it out of him.

"Since when do I take orders from you?" he asked, perfectly seriously. "Besides, I'm not tired. Wide awake, see?" He pulled his eyelids away from their respective eyes and made a face. "One-hundred percent conscious."

Jak had swung his gaze to Daxter's face for a short moment, raising one eyebrow as if to say, 'You're not helping.'

The rodent sobered up, trying to think of some alternative way of making him see the lighter side of things.

"Still upset, huh?" he inquired quietly, knowing that it was a dumb question to ask, but needing something to say.

"You don't get over this kind of thing in a few hours, Daxter." Jak returned his pained stare to the abandoned road.

"You know you're not alone, Jak. I know Keira just as well as you do." Jak flinched at her name, a whimper escaping his throat in such an anguished manner that it made Daxter feel guilty. But he continued. "Better, even. Remember when we were younger, you and I used to fight over who got to take her to those stupid barn dances the ole' farmer threw every fall? Even when it was my turn, she always managed to sneak in a slow dance with you every year."

Jak was looking at the cement now, listening carefully.

"I watched you two dance when we were fourteen. And even though you've got two left feet, she acted like it was the most wonderful thing in the world. You should have seen that look on her face, Jak. You couldn't have seen what I saw from where you were standing. She was absolutely, completely, head over heels in love with you that night. It's not too different from the way she looks at you now."

"She..." Jak choked, unable to finish his thought.

"She loves you, Jak," Daxter cut in, pushing his friend to open up. "And she's out there, somewhere, waiting for you. We'll find her, pal."

Jak posed his greatest fear in a shaky voice, one that threatened to break into sobs.

"What... what if she's gone? What if I can't reach her where she is now?"

Daxter gave him an indignant glare for Keira.

"You think she'd just give up like that? C'mon, this is Keira we're talking about! She's saved our asses in more than one case, and she's perfectly capable of pulling herself out of trouble. Not that we shouldn't go look for her... With that injury, she'd probably appreciate a little help."

Jak was silent for a while, unconvinced. He leaned forward and let his forehead rest in his left hand, eyes shut tight against the reality of the situation.

"Just go to bed, Dax," he pleaded through gritted teeth.

With a sense of heavy failure settling over his heart, Daxter pushed himself up off of the concrete step and trudged back to the open door. He stole a last glance over his shoulder at his miserable friend before heading back in.

He dragged himself back to the bedroom and clambered up onto the mattress. The vision of his dejected comrade sitting outside all alone, teary eyed and despondent, was fresh in his mind as he pulled the covers over his head and slipped into an uneasy sleep.

_

* * *

_  
"Where are you?" 

_Right next to you.  
_  
"Keira? Keira, I can't see you. Which way?"

_Right here.  
_  
Jak looked to his left. The dark veil obscuring his vision dissipated, not entirely, but enough to see the dark figure struggling to stumble her way over to him. He ran to her.

"Oh, God, I never thought I'd see you again," he sobbed, reaching her and throwing his arms around her, unheeding of the gaping wound at her waist.

_You have to find me,_ she stated, returning the embrace weakly. _I need you._

"What are you talking about?" he asked incredulously, never relinquishing his grip around her. "You're right here. Everything's going to be alright now. I'll never let you out of my sight again..."

_But you have to go. You have to go find me. I can't hold out much longer than this._ Her arms began to slip from around his waist, an emphasis on her failing strength.

Jak held on tighter in response.

"I'm not going anywhere. I'm staying right here, with you. I love you, Keira. I never had the chance to tell you before, but I do. And I won't lose you again, not for anything." He pressed a determined kiss to the top of her head. "Never again."

_Then find me, Jak._ She looked up at him, and her face was full of sorrow. The message seemed to exude through her pleading eyes: _I need you._

Jak wasn't moving, but he could feel her presence fading rapidly. Yellow eyes glared at the two from somewhere in the blackened background, and Keira slipped out of his arms somehow. She was drifting away, back into the void that she had appeared from, her sad eyes still beckoning to him: _Find me._

"No, Keira, don't leave me! Please, Keira..."

But she had left.

* * *

Jak stirred, mumbling in his waking state.

"Keira... Come back..."

He held his pillow tightly against his bare chest, finding a slight comfort to have something in his arms, where she belonged.

He knew that he was coming out of sleep, that the ghostly vision and message he had witnessed wasn't real. But he fought off wakefulness with all his being from lust of wanting to be with Keira again, even in that dream.

But whether he wanted to admit to it or not, he was awake. The ethereal significance of what had occurred brought his pained eyes open, and he pressed his face into the pillow for comfort.

"Oh God," he whispered into the softness, the sound inaudibly muffled by the fabric.

Presently, he got out of bed, making his way leadenly into the bathroom. He gazed at the clock while he cleaned up, realizing he had slept only a few hours since coming inside. It was eight in the morning, and Daxter was already up, as usual.

"Morning," he called as he passed the open bathroom door.

Jak didn't reply. He felt like banging his head against the wall repeatedly until he was rendered unconscious. At least then he would be able to escape reality for a while.

"Today's the day, pal!" Daxter announced in a determined tone from the kitchen. "Saddle up and pack a lunch, 'cause we're not comin' home until we find Keira."

Jak looked up at his reflection in the mirror. His eyes were red, and he looked defeated. His hair was a mess, his face was drawn in despair, and he felt like all the life and strength had been drained out of him. It was unlikely that he would survive today, he thought, if they stumbled on evidence that the worst had happened.

He grabbed a shirt that had been draped across the towel rack and pulled it over his head as he emerged from the bathroom. He hadn't showered since the expedition into Dead Town, but he really couldn't have cared less. He only had one thing on his mind right now, and it wasn't hygiene.

"C'mon, we're burning daylight!" Daxter grumbled good-naturedly, tapping his foot near the front door.

Jak trudged into the kitchen, feebly reaching out with his right arm to retrieve his Morph Gun from the edge of the table as he passed by. Daxter watched his friend, ears drooping slightly at his zombie-like movement and hopeless expression.

Jak reached the door and pulled it open wordlessly, hardly paying any attention to the keys that Daxter held out for him to take. Concerned for Jak's welfare, Daxter leapt onto the windowsill and locked the door from the inside before following the boy and pulling it shut.

"Uh, you might need these," the ottsel commented upon hopping onto the zoomer. He handed the keys to Jak almost apologetically, flinching when he took them without a word and fumbled with the ignition. "You're not, uh... having a relapse into muteness, are you, buddy?" Dax asked softly as the engine hummed into life. He hoped that this would bring a smile to Jak's face, but he got no response. Jak simply pretended not to hear him, and pulled out of the drive and onto the street.

* * *

Keira shivered against the chill wind that crept through the cell like a cruel spirit. Or was that her fever, creating the cold temperatures along with the nausea and sweat that had recently broken out on her forehead? She didn't know and didn't really care to find out.

She had been here for what seemed like days, but she knew in the back of her mind, with all the logic and sense she could salvage from delirium, that it must have only been a matter of hours since the bladed arm of the Metal Head had cut deeply into her flesh. She had known where they had taken her at first, but had forgotten along with many other things due to the infection. She could remember only basics at this moment of ill panic, such as who she was, the faces of those nearest her heart, and which parts of her body hurt the most.

She also knew that she was sick. With what didn't matter. All she cared about was keeping warm and not throwing up. She had her eyes shut tight against the darkness of her confinement; trying with what little strength she had left to will away her illness.

The discomfort brought back memories of the time she had had a bad case of influenza back home. That had been three years ago, and then she had had her father to look after her and frequent visits from Jak and Dax to help her through. Now she was being held captive in a small alcove of a cave, chiseled off of the main nest...

That was where they had taken her, she remembered. The Metal Head Nest.

That harsh breeze was back, and she gasped in air through her teeth as the gash on her right side shot another periodic stab of pain up through her chest.

_Please just make it stop,_ she pleaded inwardly. _I don't want to die here.  
_  
But in fact, she couldn't help but think how much better it would be just to go to sleep and never wake up. She was between hoping that Jak or Daddy or anyone would rescue her and praying that death would stop playing games and take her.

_At least I'm not bleeding so much anymore,_ she thought in true Keira fashion. It was so typical of her to look at the glass as half full.

But it was true; she had finally ceased the blood flow from the wound by using her shirt as a bandage and applying pressure to the cut for three hours straight. Now it was normally just a dull throb that she had learned to all but ignore. It had ways of reminding her that it was still there, though, namely the sharp stabs of pain that seemed to be timed at regular intervals.

A noise from outside her cell forced her to wrench her eyes open and sit up a little straighter against the hard stone wall. She had been hugging her knees to her chest and rocking ever so slightly back and forth to keep herself awake, but now the rocking stopped as she peered at the shadows prowling outside her alcove.

Two dark shapes crawled toward the bars at a lumbering pace. Metal Heads, she noted, for they approached on all fours. She began to withdraw, to make herself as small as possible against the rock wall. She prayed that they wouldn't see her. They must know that she was there, of course, but perhaps if she stayed very still, they would become disinterested and pass her by.

They stopped short of her cell and flashed a quick, unfeelingly cold glare in her direction. She held her breath, afraid that they would hear her thumping heart.

Both the creatures removed their fear-inducing stare and separated, one taking a seat on the left side of the alcove barrier, the other doing the same on the right. They sat straight and alert, as if loyal dogs guarding some prized possession. That's what she thought they were doing at first; guarding the gate into her small prison. But they didn't watch her movement from their posts. They faced one another from across the door, their expressions stern and almost professional, like they were waiting for something else.

_They're not guarding the door,_ she thought, another fresh wave of terrible realization and horror creeping up her spine. _They're escorting someone else here.  
_  
Arms wrapped tightly about her legs, hugging them close to her chest, she kept her anticipating gaze on the gate, staring fearfully into the dismal darkness, imagining all the awful things this new threat could take the shape of.

Less than two minutes later, her guards stood abruptly in salute to an unseen commander. Tears of terror were standing in her eyes now, gathering in weight until they blurred her vision. In a panic, she quickly brushed them away with a forearm. A new shadow was advancing between the two grunts, she saw as her sight became clearer with the absence of tears. This one, however, was standing full upright on hind legs, arms swinging with casual purpose as it walked. She noticed the elongated ears of the silhouette and gasped silently. Whoever this person was, it was human.

The gate was opened slowly, as if her intruder was trying to make as little noise as possible. Once inside, it nodded to each Metal Head in turn. With that gesture, the beasts resumed their earlier guard-like positions.

The dark figure turned to face the wall where Keira had taken refuge. Then it spoke in a low tone, a male voice.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are," he began, taking confident steps toward the base of the wall. "There's nothing to be frightened of... yet."

A sudden hope flickered into life at the sound of another voice. Keira strained her eyes to search the man's face.

"Jak? How did you find me? What are you..." She was cut short. The man began to laugh. A low, deeply amused chuckle that proved easily that this man was not who she had hoped he was.

"Of course," he was saying, almost to himself, a hint of the amusement still present in his tone. "You would think that, wouldn't you? Yes, he is the first thing on your mind, isn't he? Well, I'm sorry to have to disappoint you. No, I'm afraid that Lover Boy isn't coming, sweetheart. Not to save you, at any rate."

His words chilled her, and she fought back the tears of mixed terror and confusion. What? Not coming? How could he just leave her here, fate in the hands of murderous animals...

But no, she told herself as soon as the first paranoia subsided. He's just trying to get me worked up. _Jak's coming, with Daddy and the rest of the Underground. They'll all be here, within a few hours, guns blazing...  
_  
He laughed again.

"What's the matter, Keira?" he asked mockingly. "Cat got your tounge? Here, allow me to strike up the conversation. How do you like our guest room? Cozy little accommodation, isn't it?"

Keira was beginning to grow angry, despite her fear. _This jackass has some nerve,_ she thought. _I'll bet he thinks he's just damn hilarious._

She steeled herself as much as she could and replied in a shaky voice.

"What are you trying to accomplish here? If you're just playing some sick game to scare the living hell outta me, good job. It worked. Now let me go."

She felt her annoyance with this guy's attitude trigger some old defense inside her mind. Up until a few months ago, she had lived in Haven, alone and without allies. Then she had to rely on building her own strong personality to combat most of the creeps that had ever made a pass at her or threatened her. Cynical, that's what she had been. And now she was forced to use that angle again.

"Oh, I think you'll stay put a while longer, babe," the man countered, folding his arms across his chest and tilting his head to the side amusedly. "I haven't finished with you yet. But I promise, once he takes the bait, I'll release you from my care to live out your life. You will have served the purpose, and I'll have no further use of you. But until then, why not sit back and relax? No harm will come to you so long as you stay here like a good little girl and behave."

_Did this cocky bastard just call me a "little girl?"_ she spat inwardly, indignant. But another thought had just occurred to her.

"How do you know my name?" she asked cautiously, trying not to sound too frightened. "And Jak? And what in God's name are you talking about, 'serve a purpose?' I've got a purpose, thanks. And it's not to sit here and die slowly in some light-deprived hole."

"As I've said, my fiery little hostage, while you may be confined, you are far from 'dying slowly' while in my charge."

"I don't know about that," she began, matter-of-factly. "I may not even last the day, with this enormous gash one of your buddies decided to give me."

The man lost all casualness in his tone.

"That lackey was not a 'buddy' of mine, he was a pawn. And rest assured, had he survived his encounter with your love object, he would not have returned to a warm welcome. My orders were to bring you here unscathed. And for the wound, I am deeply regretful. I will send for warm water and bandages, and I will have a look at the cut..."

"You won't touch me, you poor excuse for an uncivilized tyrant!" she protested in a demanding voice. "Come within a five foot radius of me and I'll..." She couldn't finish the sentence, as she had suddenly begun to cough violently.

"You'll what?" he asked over the noise. "Give me a terrible cold? Heaven forbid." He took another step closer. "But the order stands. That wound must be treated if it's half as bad as you make it out to be, otherwise you risk an illness you really don't want to mess with."

"I don't take orders from..."

"You will while you're here." He called to the Metal Head positioned at the right side of the gate, giving the order to retrieve the wrappings. The creature left with a salute, and the shadowy man turned back to her. "As for my knowing your name, well, you know mine. And so does Jak. Let's leave it at that, shall we?"

This left Keira thinking. _How could I possibly... I know I've never even... Who is this guy?_ But nonetheless, she couldn't help feeling that his voice did sound familiar.

"What do you mean, 'take the bait?'" she finally asked tentatively, after a few minutes' silence.

The man sighed heavily, as if he were about to explain something transparently obvious to a toddler.

"Your friend," he began, "Jak," he added, the word dripping with disdain, "owes me. Big time. And because he consistently refuses to pay up, I have no choice but to lure him to me so that I can make amends for the wrongs that he has committed. And what better way to bait the trap than with the love of his life? There's no way he's going to stand by and save his own skin while his heartthrob is in mortal danger. That's where you get mixed up in this whole crazy deal. In fact, you were the reason I sent the troops out on that offensive in Dead Town in the first place. I never planned on an actual victory over the Underground. I simply wanted you."

"But how did you know I was going to be in Dead Town with Storm Fleet?" Keira inquired, growing more frightened every minute.

"Believe me, I have my connections."

Without waiting for a retort, he went on.

"As soon as we had you, we pulled back. We knew we couldn't defeat Jak in combat like that, he's proven to be a worthy adversary in that sense. This is the only way he will fall. So you see, Keira, you are the key to Jak's undoing."

"Fall?" she whispered. "I thought he just owed you money! Why would you hurt him over something as trivial as..."

"Money?" the man roared. "Money? If only it were that simple! No, Keira, he owes me blood. He owes me the flesh off his back, the tears from his soul. He made a horrible mistake when he brought this war upon the Hora-Quan. He made the deal when he severed Master Kor's head. Now it is his turn to repay us for the suffering and agony that he put my kind through. It began with him, but it shall end with me."

Keira stared at the ground, tears leaving wet trails down her face. She could say nothing. She couldn't do much more.

The man spoke again, but his voice sounded weary and almost kind.

"Now, I'm sorry you have to play this part. But this is something that must be done in order to reestablish the balance to the way it ought to be."

"Please don't hurt him," Keira sobbed. She had given up on the attitude, and from the moment the silhouette had told her he planned to kill Jak, she had felt the old defensive Keira ebb away. "You don't know him. He's a good person, and he's been through so much and... I love him," she whispered, as if admitting it to herself for the first time. "Please leave him alone."

"That's enough," the man's voice had grown harsh again. "I think that's a sufficient explanation. All you need to hear, anyway."

Keira was about to plead further, to offer the man her life, her house, that damn croca-dog... anything to get Jak out of this mess. But the guard was back, and it carefully slid the basin of hot water and bandages through the gate. The man took the items from the Metal Head without a word and walked cautiously, so as not to spill the water, back to Keira.

"Now then," he stated as he came closer. "Let's see to this cut, shall we?"

And with that, Bane stepped out of the shadows.

* * *

A/N: Yeah, okay, so it took a little longer than I had expected it would for me to get the edited version back from Audrey. I still haven't gotten it back from Joy, but I'm posting it anyway. If she finds any plotholes (God forbid) or mistakes of that kind, I'll just have to re-post. Anyhow, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Thankies muchly Editor Audrey and Joy. You should be paid for your services, but I'm broke. So, no money for you.

-Alternative Delirium


	10. Chapter 10: Seductive Escape

A/N: Okay, first thing's first. Any of you guys seen that commercial with the Hispanic guy eating Skittles in an eagle's nest? It makes no sense whatsoever. Anyhow, summer's beginning to get on my nerves. There's far too much going on this year, and I've about had it. But I continue to write, as it is my only escape from reality. See how I'm avoiding an apology here? Clever, huh?

So, okay Jon. I'm done if you are. Thinking back, I did read your "motivational" review on a bad day. You just caught me in a crappy mood and I took it wrong. But it is kinda hard to decipher that sort of thing, especially when I can't hear your tone of voice through an e-mail. And yes, I did praise you for giving me advice once, because you were being helpful. I don't regret it. So can this stop? Truce?

To the rest of you, I appreciate the time you take to send me those little reviews that make all the difference. Thank you, thank you, thank you. And I think it's only fair to warn you, this chapter is Keira based. I was going to make it longer, but I decided to chop it in half to make two chapters instead. I'll shut up now and let you read. Enjoy!

* * *

"You!" Keira gasped, utterly repulsed at the thought that she had once smiled and laughed and held light conversation with this back stabber. 

Bane ignored her remark, acting as though it were the most obvious thing in the world for him to be there, in alliance with bloodthirsty Metal Heads.

He kept his eyes on the wound as he approached, kneeling by her side as soon as he was no more than a few inches from her. She instinctively withdrew from him, trying to put some distance between them. But Bane simply grabbed her wrist before she could get very far.

"Calm down," he grumbled, dipping the cloth into the basin with his other hand. "You're just going to make it worse if you fight."

Keira didn't have a reply for this. She was already racking her brain for ideas on how to get out of here so she could warn Jak.

Bane lifted the edge of her shirt to get a better look at the damage. Immediately, Keira wrenched herself away from him again, becoming defensive to his touch. She glared at him, hoping that he would sigh and give up. He returned her gaze with a steady, impatient stare and removed the cloth from the water, wringing it out slightly.

"Don't make me sedate you," he warned. She could have laughed out loud. Sedate? It was very unlikely that he was carrying any chloroform or anything of that kind, and even more unlikely that he had it in stock somewhere in the nest. Even so, she couldn't pick up on any hint of a teasing tone in his voice, and that made her wonder.

"_I'll_ do it," she snapped, reaching out for the dripping cloth. "That's not an offer."

Bane scrutinized her for a moment, looking like he was searching for a reason that she shouldn't be handed the bandage. Finally, he thrust it into her hand almost angrily.

"Just make sure you clean it thoroughly. I'm not responsible if you come down with an infection," he growled, sliding the basin of warm water towards Keira.

"A little late for that," she mumbled under her breath, gently wiping away the dried blood from the cut.

"What was that?"

"I didn't say a damn thing," she snarled through clenched teeth, more from biting back the pain of messing with the wound than out of anger.

"Right." He wasn't convinced, but he was done pursuing the topic.

She tried pressing the cloth over the gash, first with minimal pressure and then building on it until she couldn't stand it. It just hurt too much.

"Shit," she gasped, tears of pain pricking the back of her eyes. She slammed the cloth back into the basin, causing water to leap up and splash out onto the dirty ground.

Bane jumped back, attempting to avoid the water.

"Damn it, woman!"

"Sorry," she hissed without conviction, eyes shut tight, holding her side uselessly. "Shit. Don't you have some sort of antibiotic that I can put on this?"

"Afraid not," he replied, brushing off a sleeve that had not escaped the splash. "There are going to be a few changes around here, namely the distribution of first aid kits." He smiled, a stab at lightening the tension in the air.

Keira caught his eye, and would have smiled back, if it weren't for the pain and the fact that this psycho was in league with a pack of rabid animals and planned to kill the only man she had ever loved. Instead, she simply glowered at him with what frustration she had the strength to direct at Bane.

He sighed and straightened up.

"I have nothing against you, Keira," he began in a weary tone. "And I'm sorry you had to get involved. I understand that it's not your fault that you know Jak. You couldn't help your feelings for him, but now it's gotten you into more trouble than you deserve. It's unfair. I hate to do it this way, but when I think of what that moron's done..."

He trailed off before his voice rose to an infuriated note, turning away from Keira so that he could control his temper. He pounded the wall with one fist, eyes closed tightly against the images of the boy's gun massacring thousands of his brethren without a moment's hesitation.

Keira eyed him carefully, watching for any sign of hostility towards herself. He leaned against the wall now, breathing through clenched teeth.

_Whatever he's done, Jak has really pissed this guy off,_ she thought.

After a few moments, Bane seemed to regain his composure. He pushed himself away from the wall and ran a hand through his short maroon hair in a distracted sort of way. He sighed and refocused his attention on Keira, who was still watching him carefully.

"I just..." he searched for a way to describe his hatred for Jak without exploding into a rage, but came up with nothing. "It's better if I don't talk about it," he finished, shaking his head in exasperation.

Keira dismissed his odd behavior as idle babble and went back to plotting an escape plan. She searched the chamber with her gaze, trying to spot something, anything at all, that might inspire a way out. Maybe a rusty chain she could use to choke Bane and take his keys... But in the back of her mind she knew she couldn't bring herself to kill him, no matter how horrible a person he was. She didn't want blood on her hands. But maybe a piece of wood or something club-shaped that she could knock him unconscious with...

But there was nothing on the bare floor or walls of what she could see. The corners and far side of the alcove were in impenetrable darkness.

She finally glanced back at her "host." He was speaking again, something about how hard it was to get the Metal Heads to work together enough to form an army. She tried to block him out and center back on finding a way to break free, but there was something funny about the way he was looking at her that made her listen to what he was saying.

"... can understand why Jak feels for you the way he does. In fact, that's probably the only common ground we have. Infatuation. Try as I might to think of you as no more than a prisoner, a key weapon, I can't get around your gorgeous eyes."

He had moved away from the wall and was sauntering toward Keira, slowly but deliberately.

_Infatuation... Bane's infatuated with me?_ Keira was caught off guard with this thought, although she should have noticed it earlier. _Of course. He was flirting shamelessly with me at the bar... God, why can't I see through men? First Erol, and now this...  
_  
"Don't look so surprised, love," Bane chuckled, taking another casual step forward, bringing him within an arm's reach of her. "You're beautiful. You have a wonderful form, your hair..."

He reached out and ran his fingers through a strand of turquoise hair gently, at which she took a sharp intake of breath.

"...is so soft. And as for your personality, I must say, you are far too trusting a soul. All in all, you're quite a catch. There's no reason why any man wouldn't want you."

Keira was at a loss for words. How do you respond to flattery, in the given situation?

She felt like Bane was dissecting her with his eyes. Feeling more than naked under his inspecting stare, she looked away, trying to think of some way to react.

_Wait._.. An idea began to spark in a corner of her mind. She quickly stole a fleeting glance at his face, confirming what she hoped was present in his eyes. A greedy lust, more of a sexual interest rather than actual care.

_Okay, so it might work, but it just feels so dirty. And it's _Bane_. Before I knew who he really was, it might not have seemed so revolting, but now it's just disgusting. I'm going to hate this, I know I am... And what would Jak think? Please forgive me Jak, but I have got to get out of here. For my sake and for yours.  
_  
Gathering the remainder of her courage, Keira brought her gaze up to meet Bane's. She forced herself to stay calm, so that she would be able to intimidate him enough to gain control when the time came.

Bane offered her an easy grin. Against her better judgment (which she had decided to shut off temporarily), she smiled back at him cattishly.

"You know," she began, making herself sound very nonchalant. She lowered her eyes to his feet and slowly brought them back up to his face, pretending to check him out while she was really searching for a concealed weapon. Just as she had prayed, he was armed, a small pistol-like gun holstered at his waist. "You're not too bad yourself." The words left a rotten, lying taste in her mouth, but she hid her guilt well.

Bane's smile disappeared. A mildly shocked expression replaced it.

"Really?" He said it as more of a disbelieving statement rather than a question, but Keira noted the hint of interest in his voice and knew that he wanted to be answered.

_On the right track..._she praised herself silently.

"Sure. I mean, have you seen yourself lately? All tall, dark and... er... attractive," she choked, noticing his frown deepen and frantically searching for a way to recover from that short stall. "And the way you walk, like you own every place you stroll into. It's so _masculine_."

She watched his face for signs of weakness, and almost smirked when his expression changed slightly and a hungry look came into his eyes.

As gracefully as she could manage without causing severe pain in her right side, she pushed herself off of the ground and stood as close to him as she dared. She could smell his musky sent, and it took all she had not to gag or back off. Another stab of pain shot through her wounded abdomen and she stumbled to the side. Bane leaned over and caught her before she fell, eyeing her with something between worry and confusion.

She forced herself to grin at him again in what she hoped seemed like a grateful gesture, but she was really more concerned with getting his hands off of her as soon as possible.

She steadied herself and continued with her false, esteem-boosting speech.

"And that bod," she persisted in a sultry tone, trailing her forefinger down his chest lazily. She felt him tremble slightly under her touch. This gave her more confidence in what she was doing. "You talk the talk, too, baby." The last word was added on without intention. She mentally flinched at this moral mistake, but wasn't about to stop. "You're just so damn _dangerous_, it's sexy."

That was it. Bane had lost all control now. She could see it in his eyes, in the way his hands shook as he wrapped them about her waist.

_Okay, okay, just stay cool, don't screw up now, this is the last plunge, then I can start feeling guilty... Oh, this is so wrong. God, just stop thinking, take a deep breath and do it already!  
_  
She shut down all rational thought and took action. She leaned in and put her arms around his neck as relaxed as she could, finding the next part every bit as difficult as she thought it would be.

She kissed him, full on the lips, every moment imagining Jak to make it passionate instead of mechanical. Eyes closed, she released her embrace around his neck and put one hand behind his head to pull him in. He didn't fight it, and kissed her back voraciously. As this kept his mind preoccupied, she let her other hand slip down to his waist, where the holstered weapon lay. She wrapped her fingers around the handle and prepared to remove it quickly, but waited until the opportune moment.

Only seconds later did Bane begin to let his hands wander more than she had planned. He began to fiddle with the latch on her belt, completely unhooking it before she knew what was happening. Her eyes shot open in panic, and she drew the pistol swiftly as he commenced pulling the belt out of the loops. She took three steps backward, so quickly that she almost tripped over herself and pointed the gun at his chest. She turned her head to the left and spat, trying to get his taste out of her mouth.

"Back off," she snapped shakily, but dangerously.

Bane was paralyzed from shock. Everything had just happened so fast, and now he was in a situation he was not easily going to get out of. Slowly, as his senses came back to him, he raised both his hands in defeat, eyes wide with terror and disbelief.

Keira switched the gun to her other hand, still aiming directly at his heart. She put her belt back through its belt loops erratically, breathing unevenly from her brief scare. Re-latching the clasp, she glared back at Bane.

He seemed to have found his voice.

"But Keira, I thought..."

"Look, just shut up, alright?" she cut in venomously, her words shaking just as much as her hands. "I lied, okay? I lied because I had to. You weren't going to let me go, but now you don't have a choice. I just want to go home." She was beginning to cry, but she hoped that he couldn't see that. She was scared; if she had to pull that trigger, she would have killed someone. And she would have lost the only possible way that she had out of the nest.

"Okay, okay," he spoke in a half soothing, half frightened voice. "Just mellow out a little..."

"Don't you tell me what to do, Goddammit!" she shouted. "_I'm_ the one with the gun, _I'll_ do the ordering around here. Now, you're going to get me the hell out of here, and you're going to do it now." _Because I'm scared out of my mind,_ she added to herself, but wasn't planning on letting him know that.

"And how do you think you're going to get out of here with this place crawling with my troops?" he asked, almost conversationally. "As soon as you take one step outside this cell, they'll be all over you. And I think I'm past the point of being a good host. I'll let them do whatever they want to you, as long as you're still breathing when they're done."

Still trembling with fear and hate, Keira aimed up a little and fired just over his left shoulder. He hit the ground, diving out of the way.

"Shit!"

"Any more questions, you unbelievable prick? Or are we done? Because I'd really like to get home."

"Holy shit... You... you're insane!"

"I'm going to let the pistol do the talking from here on out..."

"Alright, already! Damn, you crazy bitch! I'll do whatever it takes."

"That's what I like to hear. Get off your ass." She walked over to where he lay, gun still following his chest. He scrambled to his feet, stumbling in the direction that she indicated. They reached the gate, where both sentry Metal Heads had fled upon hearing the gunshot. "Open it," she demanded, prodding his back with the barrel.

"Fine!" He removed his keys from his pocket and fumbled with them until he found the right one, reaching through the bars and sliding it into the outside lock. The gate swung open and they walked through. The hall split two ways. Keira replaced the pistol near Bane's head.

"How do we get out of the nest?" she asked. "And I want the truth, because if you don't lead me straight to the exit, I'll shoot you in a different appendage for every time we took a wrong turn, starting with your shortest."

The rest of the color drained from Bane's face. He cursed, glancing down one hall and then the other.

"This way," he said, deciding on one and leading the way a few steps ahead of Keira. They walked on in a tension filled silence, until the hall began to curve downward and to the right. "How do you think you're going to get past all those Metal Heads?" Bane questioned tentatively.

"Don't worry about it," she spat, making her stride a little longer to keep up with him.

They rounded the corner to come out into the main hub of the nest, littered with those neon green eggs, most of them broken or smashed, but still glowing bright.

As Bane had warned, Metal Heads were numerous here as well. They stalked in every direction, growling a greeting to one another as they passed or taking a snap at another's tail when it waved a little too close to their face.

Keira poked Bane in the back with the pistol, urging him forward. They emerged into the hub with bated breath.

A few of the creatures stopped in their tracks to look curiously at the two, then turned completely around and bared their teeth threateningly. Soon, the others followed suit, realizing the immediate danger.

Bane didn't order them to stand down, so Keira came up behind him and grabbed him in a headlock. She cocked the gun to his head and looked around the room, hoping that the monsters couldn't sense her terror. They ceased snarling, in awe that this strange woman had their master by the head and was ready to fire.

"That's right," she called, her echo reverberating off of the cavernous walls. "Just cool it. Back off so we can get through."

The Metal Head closest to them took a spontaneous lunge towards them, a shrill scream piercing the air. Keira jumped a bit, but swung the gun in the direction of the offending creature. She fired, catching it in the eye. It screamed again, thrashing its head wildly about, and then retreated clumsily to a far corner of the hub.

"I'm serious, I'll blow his frigging brains out!" she yelled, bringing the barrel back to Bane's head. Her voice was strident, on the verge of breaking from horror.

Not a Metal Head moved. They were confused, angry and frightened. They waited for their master's command.

"Say it," Keira hissed into his ear. "Say it, or so help me God, I'll drive this next round so far into your skull..."

"Stand down!" he interrupted, calling out to his loyal minions. "For the love of Kor, stay out of her way! She's not screwing around, dammit!"

Keira glanced at the surrounding monsters, watched them make uncertain eye contact with one another, and then slowly begin to fall back to the far wall.

"Right, keep going," she demanded, pulling Bane along by the scruff of his shirt.

_Almost out. Just a few more steps, and I'm home free._

The nest entrance loomed before them, no more than a few yards away. Keira turned around to face the army of beasts that were glaring at her from the rear wall. Warily, she backed out of the nest, Bane still locked in her grip.

As soon as they had emerged into the half-sunlight, Keira pushed Bane out in front of her, keeping him at gunpoint.

"Alright, move it," she ordered, glancing over her shoulder to make sure that they weren't being followed. "C'mon, let's go!" She broke into a limping jog, ignoring the pain as best she could. Bane was pushed ahead.

Keira slowed and stopped near the dense bramble to the right of the nest entrance. This was where they had landed the transport, behind the growth for camouflage. She bent down, allowing herself to catch her breath. Bane took a small step towards her, and she snapped back up, the pistol always at the ready.

Bane reversed his motion, putting his hands in the air.

"Look, I just wanna..."

"Save it. As soon as I'm out of here, I don't ever want to hear from you, see you, or even think of you again. Am I clear on that?" she cut in spitefully.

Bane dropped his hands and smirked at her.

"Where will you go? Or better yet, how are you going to get there?"

Keira glimpsed over her shoulder at the partially hidden transport.

"Give me the keys," she insisted in a hasty, low voice.

"What do you take me for, lady?"

"Bane," she warned, her voice rising to a tone just as dangerous as the weapon she kept trained on his chest. "Give me the God damn keys."

Bane shrugged his shoulders and gave her a tiny smile.

"I don't have them with me."

"I _know_ you do, and I'm not going to ask for them again."

"Hey, you got yourself out of the nest. You're a smart girl. I'm sure you'll be able to find another way home."

"I'm warning you..." she threatened, cocking the pistol.

"It's really not that far. In fact, I'll give you a few hours head start on foot before I send my troops out after you. That sounds fair, doesn't it...?"

Keira aimed for his left leg and pulled the trigger.

Bane shrieked in agony, falling to the ground and flailing about, kicking up the dust in a panicked frenzy.

"The keys," Keira repeated, blocking out the shock that she had just shot a fellow human being. "If I have to shoot you again, you'll be childless for the rest of your life."

Bane continued to writhe in the dirt.

Keira approached his fallen form and kneeled down next to him. She reached inside his pocket and brought out the ring of keys. "You could have made it a lot easier on yourself," she commented, standing upright and turning back to the bramble-hidden air train. She squeezed through the dry twig-like growth (avoiding further damage to her wound) and opened the cab door.

Climbing in, she ran her eyes over the steering mechanisms and controls, fairly confident that she would have no trouble flying the transport back to Haven. She had, after all, spent the majority of her life around vehicles.

Inserting the suitable key into the ignition, she flipped the thruster and waited to gain altitude. As the air train rose, she looked back down on Bane, lying helplessly on the ground. Choking back any sympathy she harbored for him, she brought in the landing legs of the transport and accelerated forward, leaving the Metal Head nest behind.

It was only then that the guilt began to gnaw at her insides, the realization of all that she had done in the past forty minutes finally hitting home.

"Oh, Jak," she moaned, remembering the message that she had to deliver to her beloved friend. "What have you done?"

* * *

A/N: Ah, drama, drama, drama. Waves are never a bad thing when writing fiction. Though reality T.V. and (gag) reality could benefit from a little less of that particular ingredient, good ole' fashioned storytime drama keeps this author from flat-lining. Kick ass. 

-Alternative Delirium


	11. Chapter 11: Ignored Warning

A/N: Here it is, two years later and this damn thing still ain't finished. As a friend of mine repeatedly quotes, "I'm workin' on it." The guilt of not wrapping up what I started has been gnawing at an obscure lobe of my brain for quite a while, and as a result, I can no longer do simple math. Two plus two is chair. So, to avoid further damage, I think I it's about time I pulled the pin on this grenade. Just after I finish revising.

* * *

"Nothing over here," Daxter called, lifting the edge of a small rock and peering under for good measure. "How's your end?"

Jak took a final sweeping glance of the area he had been searching and shook his head. "All clear," he answered solemnly.

It had been three and a half long hours since Jak and Dax had arrived back in Dead Town, with authorization from Torn and the rest of the Guard to search the perimeter for any trace of Keira. Torn had offered to send a handful of troops to help with the investigation, but Jak had politely declined, due to the Guard's distasteful habit of bungling the simplest of operations. He wouldn't trust them with Keira's life.

Sig, however, would not take no for an answer. Daxter had received a call from the Wastelander on his communicator, asking where the two of them had been since the Underground's reunion. Neither had stepped foot in the Ottsel since, and Sig was beginning to suspect something was distracting their attention. Daxter had filled him in on the recent events, and Sig immediately signed up as assistant tracker.

At the moment, Sig was crouched on the ground, seemingly examining the dirt for a print or track that was invisible to everyone but him.

"What about you, big guy?" Daxter questioned, bounding over to where Sig was studying the earth. "Anything interesting?"

"Hell, I can't make sense out of anything here," the dark man snapped irritably. "With all these tracks, you'd think that there was a war here."

Daxter gave him a dull stare.

"Ah, hello? Big confrontation with the Metal Heads just yesterday? Ringing any bells?"

"Oh, you little smartass, you know what I mean." Sig made a swipe at Daxter's head, but the rodent ducked out of the way just in time. "The point is, I couldn't read these tracks if my life depended on it."

"_Keira's _life depends on it," Jak interjected harshly. "Isn't there anything that you can..."

"Look, I understand the circumstances, boys. And I would track those bastards across the continent if I had too. But I'm telling you, these prints are impossible to read. I'm sorry."

Jak furrowed his brow in thought.

"Maybe, if we get someone else to take a look at the trail..."

Again, Sig interrupted him.

"Don't bother wasting your time on searching for someone better at tracking than me, because they don't exist," he cut in, a half-indignant expression on his scarred face.

Jak folded one arm across his chest and used the other hand to massage his temples, eyes shut tight in contemplation.

"Does anyone have any guess as to where they might have taken her?" he asked tiredly, dropping his hands in a weary gesture.

"I would say the nest," Dax piped up from the ground. Sig shot him a questioning glance. "That is, if I didn't know any better. After all, all those metal monkeys came pouring out of the hole you left in the barrier, right? So they couldn't possibly be harboring any hostages in the same place you proved to be pregnable. Right?"

He received blank stares from both men. Jak shook his head and turned to walk back to the area that he had been scouring.

Sig and Daxter watched him go. Sig waited until Jak was out of earshot, then gazed down at the ottsel and pretended to look thoughtful.

"Hmm, 'preg-na-ble.' That's a three-syllable word, cherry. You better take a rest, before you hurt yourself."

Daxter suppressed a growl and glared back up at him.

"This coming from someone who's original enough to name a weapon of mass destruction after a pacifist," the orange furball snapped, crossing his arms over his chest.

"That's called _irony_, you sardonic little weasel," the Wastelander spat hotly. "Or maybe your tiny little brain can't register the difference between sarcasm and reverse wit."

"I know enough to realize that 'reverse wit' is a synonym for stupidity!" Dax ranted, his voice becoming less playful and taking on a fierceness only known to small, sharp toothed animals of the rodent variety.

"Ooh, you fuzzy excuse for a toilet sponge..." the warrior began in a tone that was borderline to irate.

"Cut the shit, guys," Jak interrupted four yards away before the argument came to blows. "Get over here and look at this."

He was standing completely still, eyes transfixed on a point in the air somewhere above the ruins of a crumbling wall.

The two ceased their quarrel and followed Jak's gaze to a smallish red speck hovering in the sky. It didn't seem to be moving, until they noticed that it was steadily growing bigger. On closer inspection, one could tell that it was some sort of airtrain craft, and it was coming in for a landing.

"Uh, Jak..." Daxter squeaked, leaping up on his friend's shoulder. "I think we should disappear right about now."

Ignoring his companion's suggestion, Jak removed his gun from its holster and kept his eyes trained on the incoming vehicle. It seemed to grow as it moved closer to the earth, four short black landing legs sprouting slowly from each side of the carrier a few moments before it touched down.

Sig moved in behind Jak without a word, both men watching the transport warily, straining their vision to see inside the cab for its occupant.

Jak could make out a shadow of a person at the controls. Whoever it was had apparently spent all their energy in landing the airtrain, and he/she fell forward onto the handles as if they had passed out from exhaustion.

Jak shot a concerned glance at Sig. The latter shrugged, at a loss for advice. Jak had already made up his mind, however, and began to approach the craft cautiously, motioning for Sig to follow.

Daxter bounced up and down with Jak's stride, apparently uncomfortable with Jak's decision to get any closer.

"Do you really think this is a good idea?" he whispered, his voice hinting at nervousness. "I mean, that could be anybody! What if this is a setup, and that's some sort of decoy in there, just waiting for us to get close enough to attack?"

Jak didn't reply. Daxter's warnings were unnecessary and unwelcome. Jak knew what could happen if that possibility became reality, but there was the chance that their fears were groundless and that the person in the cab was seriously in need of help. It was worth the risk.

By this time, the three were no more than two yards away from the passenger door. Jak cleared his throat and stilled his nerves.

"Uh, excuse us," he started, attempting to sound as confident as he hoped he looked. "But you look like you could be in some trouble. Do you mind opening the door so that we can talk or get you some help?" He was sure that he was speaking loud enough to hear through the cab, but though they waited, no reply came.

Again, Jak looked to his older friend for help. Sig caught his eye and took the reins.

"Hey," he called, his voice dangerous. "Look, we don't wanna hurt you, but I'm about to blow that damn door off its hinges if you don't answer." He cocked Peacemaker as he spoke, a testament to his sincerity. "Now, if you're unable to open the door, give us a sign. Roll the window down, or something."

They waited again, this time receiving a response. The shotgun-side window began to slide down until it reached halfway, then stopped. At this, Sig lowered his weapon immediately and peered through the open window. Jak did the same, squinting to make out what he could.

Suddenly, his eyes opened wide with a confused shock, and he dropped his Morph Gun on the parched ground, sprinting towards the cab clumsily, his feet unable to keep up with his mind.

Daxter fell off of his shoulder, not expecting his friend's sudden rush.

At the same time, Sig shouted at Jak, probably to stop and come back, but he didn't hear the words. All his attention was focused on one thing now.

He reached the driver-side door and pulled on the handle with a reckless force, opening it at once. And there she was, seemingly unconscious against the controls.

Without a greeting, Jak reached down and wrapped his arms around Keira in a firm embrace. A single relieved tear slid down his face as he brushed her hair away from her closed eyes. He wiped it away impatiently and pressed her head into the curve of his neck, his rapidly quickening breath hot on her shoulder.

She was breathing. Jak could feel her chest rising and falling slightly erratically against his own body. She stirred a bit, a feeble attempt to sit up, and mumbled something that sounded a lot like, "Daddy..."

"No," he soothed, keeping his voice strong for her. "It's me, Jak."

She opened her eyes halfway and looked up at him, searching his face like she didn't believe it was him at all. She looked like she was about to say something, but then grimaced instead, falling forward into his chest as she gripped at her side, a heartfelt cry of pain escaping her throat.

"Oh my God, I forgot about the wound..." Jak said, more to himself in panic than to her. "C'mon, we've gotta get you into the back where you can lie down. Do you think you can stand up?"

She shook her head against his torso, not bothering to lift her gaze.

Daxter and Sig had followed Jak to the carrier, keeping their distance until now. They had both been shocked to see who the driver had been, and neither one wanted to interfere with Jak's reunion. But now it seemed that he would need their help.

"You've got to try," Jak urged her, somehow keeping his tone gentle. He removed his embrace around her in order to reach under her legs and pull her out of the cab. He successfully brought her out, but when he tried to help her walk to the back, her legs buckled and collapsed under her.

"Damn it..." he swore, letting her down tenderly.

"I'm sorry, Jak," she sobbed, tears of pain falling from her eyes. "I just can't..."

"Shh, no, it's okay," he soothed, kneeling down next to her and using his thumb to brush away her tears. "It's okay," he repeated softly. He slid one arm behind her back and the other behind her legs again, finding a better position to pick her up. "I'm going to pick you up now," he warned. "Is that okay?" She clenched her eyes closed and nodded weakly.

Jak slowly lifted her off of the ground, her weight offering no challenge. He glanced at Sig. The burly Wastelander was sporting Daxter on his shoulder and a concerned expression on his face.

"Have you got her?" he asked Jak, nodding at the young woman he held.

Jak nodded back, then motioned with his head at the vehicle. "Can you get the back hatch opened for us?" he questioned. Daxter stood straight up on Sig's shoulder and gave a determined salute before hopping down and bounding over to the open door of the cab. Jak turned and carried Keira to the back as the hatch gave a satisfying pop and slowly swung open.

Once inside, Jak lay Keira down on the floor and watched the hatch close. Keira curled up into the fetal position and gritted her teeth against the vibration caused by the motor's sudden roar. She felt like she might get sick, and the incessant chills racing up and down her spine didn't help matters any.

"What's wrong?" Jak asked, worried.

"Just... a little... cold," she admitted, finding the words hard to say. "That's all."

Jak scanned the hold quickly. He found what he was looking for in the far right corner. Using the bench along the side as support, he walked to the emergency kit and began leafing through its contents. A moment later, he pulled a tightly rolled sleeping bag out of the mess of items and made his way back to Keira.

"This'll help," he commented, unfurling the blanket and unzipping it to its full capacity. He laid it over her, tucking it in at the corners to keep the heat inside.

"Thank you," she choked, the cold subsiding slightly.

"No problem," he replied, wishing he had something to offer her as a pillow. He returned to the storage and rummaged through the remaining things. Basic tools, a small first aid kit, jumper cables, and a dysfunctional communication unit. Nothing soft enough to serve as a headrest.

He resolved to let her lay her head in his lap.

She shuddered involuntarily, but otherwise made no complaint.

All sorts of questions began working their way through Jak's mind now that the immediate danger had diminished. Like, where had she been all night? And how did she wind up back here in Dead Town, driving an airtrain carrier no less?

He would have asked, but one glance down at her sleeping face silenced him. He reached down and stroked the side of her face, wanting the answers now, but content to let her rest.

The vehicle sped up, bringing its passengers ever closer to Haven and its hospital. "Everything will be all right," Jak soothed, running his fingers through her hair. His last statement was more of a comfort to himself, as it seemed just the opposite. Keira was hurt pretty bad, and who knew what she had had to endure at the hands of Metal Heads. Not for the first time, Jak wondered if she was going to make it.

* * *

The carrier slowed abruptly as Jak's friends maneuvered the beast of an automobile around the side of the hospital, coming in for a final landing.

With the decrease in speed, Keira's eyes opened in an immediate panic. She glanced around the smallish cargo hold, at first unaware of where she was. But then there was Jak, right above her. He looked at her with concern, his hand resting just close enough to touch the side of her face.

"It's okay," he whispered, as if a normal tone of voice would somehow hurt her ears. "I think we're at the hospital now."

"Already?" she asked, her voice coming out in a raspy squeak. She tried to sit up, but Jak held her shoulders down.

"No, don't do that," he warned softly. "You'll hurt yourself."

"No, wait, there's something I have to tell you Jak..." she began hurriedly, the fuzzy memories of the past few days getting clearer. She knew there was something very important that she needed to tell him, something extremely prominent that absolutely could not wait until she was settled into her hospital room. What was it?

Jak gave her a worried look. "What is it? Are you in pain?"

Keira didn't respond right away. She was trying frantically to remember the one thing she had to relay to him, the one thing she had broken out of her prison and commandeered this vehicle for, the one thing she had shot Bane because of...

That was it!

"Jak, it's Bane, you have to stay away from him. Don't go to the nest, he'll be waiting for you. He was... I had to kiss him... he had the Metal Heads leave us alone because I took his gun..."

Jak shook his head, dumbfounded.

"What? Keira, I think you should take it easy for a while. Just relax..."

"No, he's trying to kill you! Listen to me..."

"Shh," Jak pacified her, gently tucking a runaway strand of turquoise hair back behind her ear. "Nobody's after us, Keir. Look, we're all alone, see?"

She glanced around the hold again, just to humor him. Sure enough, they were the only two there. And, for the first time, she noticed that her head was lying in Jak's lap. Had this been any other instant, she would have blushed, but now was not the time.

_He's trying to distract me, _she thought bitterly.

"Jak, you don't understand," she urged.

"Go back to sleep, sweetheart," Jak replied, scared for her sake. "You can tell me later, when everything settles down."

_Jeez, she's delusional... _Jak thought, worried. _Come on baby, snap out of it. I don't want you losing your mind on top of everything else. _

_God dammit, why won't you listen to me? I'm trying to save your life, you dull, thickheaded, moronic, sweet, caring, big-hearted idiot! _She screamed inwardly. Frustrated tears blurred her vision, and she wrenched her head away from his line of sight. If he wasn't going to pay attention, he could just find someone else to watch cry.

"Oh, Keira, I didn't mean to..." Jak started, but was cut off. The airtrain bounced slightly as the landing legs touched earth, and there was hissing noise as the back hatch opened from the outside.

Apparently, Sig had called in the emergency before they even reached the hospital. As soon as the craft touched down on the landing pad behind the E.R., a small throng of white clad nurses and interns came rushing out of the back doors with a rolling stretcher to help get her inside.

"Here come the nurses," Jak forewarned, hoping that when Keira was feeling better she would forgive him. "You're going to be alright now."

Jak let go of her hand when the nurses began climbing into the hold with them, asking quick questions and giving sharp orders to one another. By the time they had loaded her onto the stretcher, both Sig and Daxter were waiting near the rear of the vehicle.

"I'll be there in a few minutes, Keira," he called after her, watching them disappear back into the hospital.

Daxter caught up with Jak, eyes focused on the doors that swung shut behind the stretcher.

"What'd she say?" he asked, mildly concerned with the expression on his friend's face. "Anything to worry about?"

Jak shook his head.

"I think she's delirious," he explained, staring straight ahead. "She tried to tell me about something... It didn't make any sense."

Daxter put his hands on his hips. "That's a little vague on the details, wouldn't you say?"

Jak didn't answer.

Sig broke the silence, patting the carrier on the side and clearing his throat.

"I'm gonna go have this thing identified, and then I'll head on over to Torn's and tell him that the search is off," he said. "That is, unless you need me here for something..."

"No." Jak shook his head. "Thanks, though. I appreciate your help today."

"Aw, nothin' to it," the Wastelander replied heartily, reaching out his hand to Jak. Jak did the same, and they grasped forearms momentarily in parting. Sig climbed back into the cab of the airtrain, lifting off and pulling the landing legs out from underneath it. "You take care of that girl," he called through the window as he took off.

Another moment of silence followed Sig's departure. With a sigh, Dax held out the communicator he had been hiding behind his back.

"Do, uh, you wanna call Samos, or should I?" he asked, almost guiltily.

With a loud groan, Jak bent down and snatched the communicator from the ottsel, dreading this conversation.

* * *

A/N: Reviews are encouraged, and... well, that's it.

Till next time.

-Alternative Delirium


	12. Chapter 12: Discovered Mortality

A/N: If any of you are wondering how I've been doing these past couple weeks, I think I can sum just about my entire life up with a big resounding "AAGHH!" My computer took a little vacation to hell, so I was pretty much screwed out of updating for a while there. Also, I have survived my first three weeks of high school due only to the fact that I can come home and unwind with a package of Black Cats and a cinderblock taped to the side of my dad's garage. You know how people say, "Past this point, _everything_ is high school"? Well, I'm going to have to upgrade to some higher-level explosives. Other than all that jazz, I'm completely stiff from "getting on down and beating my face" in ROTC. Not that I don't appreciate the exercise, Sergeant Major, Sir. I'm just having problems believing that I'm going to live past my freshman year.

But hey, you guys don't wanna hear about that stuff. I hate to be a downer. So, let's move away from that junk and into the story. Read on!

* * *

It had been at least an hour, Keira thought, lying on the stark white cot that served as a hospital bed, her mind numbed and somehow distant from the rest of her body. _It must be the drugs, _she explained to herself with some effort. The medications they had put her on immediately after entry were making her extremely sleepy, and she had already fallen off to sleep once. The doctor had awakened her as he made his rounds, checking in on his newest patient.

After the doctor had announced her condition stable for the time being and left, she had fought to keep her eyes open.

Surely an hour was long enough for Jak to find her room?

She was so intent on talking with him, every other thought seemed to fall away. She couldn't even remember why she needed to talk to him. _Just one thing at a time, _she told herself.

She felt her eyelids begin to close of their own account, protesting that she insisted on staying awake. She tried to shake her head to clear her thoughts, but her head felt heavy, and the thought of having to move made her all the more tired. Because speaking seemed a less momentous task, she tried that.

"Jak..." she squeaked. She cleared her throat and tried again. "Jak. I've got to tell Jak... something. About... Metal Heads? No... Bane!" _That's it. I've got to warn him about Bane. _

And with that revelation, her eyes opened wider in renewed urgency, and she attempted to sit up. That used up the last of her energy, and her head fell back onto the pillow instantly. She was asleep in seconds.

* * *

"Why didn't you bring her straight to me?" Samos snapped in place of a greeting, striding toward the two at a surprisingly fast pace. "It didn't strike you that her father, a sage of green eco, might possibly know a little something about healing?"

Jak removed his face from his hands long enough to give him a steely glare.

"I wasn't thinking clearly," he responded, trying to keep his voice calm. From the pained tone in his speech and his moistened eyes, the elder realized that he was not the only one who was fraught with concern for Keira.

Samos lowered his eyes. In a softer voice, he added, "Has the nurse come out yet?"

Jak shook his head numbly.

Samos heaved a tension-pent-up sigh. He glanced around the bleached waiting room, the exigency of the situation seeming to vanish. Replacing it was a heavy, tired worry for his daughter in the room down the hall.

The sage sat down in the chair next to the distraught blonde, narrowly avoiding squashing Daxter as the ottsel scrambled out of his way, shooting him an annoyed look as he perched himself in the opposite seat. Samos placed a hand on Jak's shoulder comfortingly, ignoring his fuzzy accomplice.

"I should thank you."

Jak didn't bother to look at him.

"Why?" he asked flatly. "I didn't do anything. I waited too long to look for her. It should have been last night... It's my fault she's dying..." He struggled with the last word, emotion forming a lump in his throat.

"She's _not _dying," Samos interrupted firmly, as much to convince himself as to persuade Jak. "Although," he continued, his own emotion beginning to show on his aged face, "she might have been, had you not found her when you did. It's because of you that she's still alive."

Jak leaned forward again, letting his head rest in his hands. He shut his eyes tight, furious with himself. Despite the sage's words, he still couldn't place the blame on anyone but Jak.

_If I hadn't given up so easy... If I hadn't lost hope of finding her alive, things would be different. This would all be over by now. And _this… He forced himself to look at the doorway across the hall leading into Keira's room. _This would never have happened in the first place. Dammit, I failed. I failed Keira, I failed Samos, I failed the Underground..._

"Uh, Jak?" Daxter interjected, gently tapping his friend on the arm.

Jak jerked his head up, glancing quickly at the rodent. Dax pointed toward the door. Jak followed his gaze to a heavy-set man dressed in a white lab coat and blue scrubs. The man was carrying a clipboard in one hand and replacing a pen in his coat pocket with the other. He sighed, then looked up and smiled wearily at the group in the waiting room.

"Are you the Hagai family?" the doctor asked, peering at the clipboard.

"I'm Keira's father, yes," Samos immediately replied.

The man nodded at the sage, then gazed expectantly at Jak. Caught unprepared, Jak blurted the first thing that came to mind.

"I'm her boyfriend."

Samos raised his eyebrows in surprise, but made no objection.

The doctor shook his head.

"I'm sorry, but it's hospital policy to let family members visit the ill or wounded in such an early condition. Family only."

"But I..." Jak stammered, trying to fight off the wave of tears that threatened to spill over.

"Mr. Hagai, you may see her now," the doctor continued.

Samos nodded briefly, than exchanged glances with Jak. Regaining some of his composure, Jak mustered a faint smile.

"Go on," he whispered to the sage. Samos patted Jak's arm sympathetically, then hurried off into the room. Jak watched him go, and then looked back at the M.D.

"Look, you don't understand..."

"There are a lot of things I don't understand," the heavy man cut Jak short. "But this isn't one of them." His tone softened. "Look, I don't like to play bouncer, but I have to follow the rules or risk losing my job."

Jak lowered his eyes in defeat.

The doctor looked over his shoulder down the hall and took another step toward the young man.

"Which is why you can't get caught," he added in a lowered voice.

Jak searched his face. The doctor gave him a wry grin and winked. Then, clearing his throat, he turned and headed for the nurses station around the corner. Jak smiled and leapt to his feet. Turning to his friend questioningly, he was spared asking by Daxter's perceptiveness.

"You go ahead," the ottsel grinned, waving a paw at the door. "I, uh, don't know how many sickies in there are allergic to pet dander."

Jak rolled his eyes good-naturedly. Needing no further invitation, he glanced down the hall before slipping through the door.

Jak found Samos sitting by his daughter's bedside, his hand covering hers. He looked up upon Jak's appearance, but if he was surprised by his presence, he hid it well.

Jak's gaze was directed to Keira. She was pale and seemingly unconscious. She had been changed into a blue hospital gown, and light bed sheets covered her lower body. She was breathing on her own, her chest rising and falling silently. Her arms rested on top of the sheets. Jak moved to her right side, unable to keep his eyes off of her sleeping form.

Remembering the location of the wound, Jak carefully lifted the sheets from her abdomen and peered under. The gash had been treated and bandaged, but the blood was beginning to seep through the wrap. Jak winced with pain for Keira as he gently replaced the covers.

"She's a fighter," Samos mumbled as if reading his thoughts. "She'll pull through."

Jak nodded. _God, I hope so..._

He kneeled down by her side and took her other hand. The room was silent for a while as the men were lost in their own thoughts. A few minutes later, Samos grunted as he rose from his chair.

"I'll leave you two alone," he stated, leaning over to kiss his daughter on the forehead. He shuffled out of the room.

Jak let go of Keira's hand only to walk over to where her father had been and sit in the chair. He again took her hand, raising it to his lips. He kissed each fingertip gingerly, then held it against his face. A warm tear trickled down his cheek as he closed his eyes. He was surprised to feel Keira's thumb move weakly under his eye, brushing the tear away. He looked up quickly to see Keira forcing a pained smile onto her face.

"You're awake!" Jak exclaimed quietly.

"Yeah," she whispered hoarsely. "I guess I am."

"How do you feel?" Jak asked worriedly. He let her hand fall away from his face as he brought it back down to the bed.

Keira's smile vanished.

"Not so hot," she managed. She ran her free hand over the bandaged area, flinching at her own touch.

"Damn," she rasped. "That Metal Head really got me, huh?"

"Not as bad as I got him," Jak replied. "You may be down, but he's out, if you know what I mean."

Keira was too tired to respond. She squeezed Jak's hand faintly, letting her eyes slide closed. She rested for a moment before opening them again.

"Keira, do you want me to leave so you can get some sleep?" Jak asked, ready to remove himself at her will.

"No," she answered immediately. "I want you right here." She tightened her grip on his hand.

Jak breathed a sigh of relief. He wanted to stay with her as long as possible.

Silence ensued for a short time as Jak fought with himself for something to say.

"Look, Keira..." he began.

"Hmm," she replied sleepily, eyes still shut.

_Stupid emotions... _Jak thought bitterly, swallowing around the lump in his throat.

"I just wanted to... to apologize. I..."

"For what?" she questioned, opening her eyes and fixing them on Jak's face.

"For everything. About the ride back, if I seemed a little... you know..."

"It's okay," she cut in. "I understand." She squeezed his hand briefly, a forgiving grin tugging at the corners of her mouth, despite the dull throb in her side and the nauseating, heavy feeling in her head. Her own circumstance made her think about what she had heard the doctor tell her father over the phone when he thought she had been sleeping.

The faint smile quickly vanished. "Besides," she added in a defeated undertone. "Life's too short to argue, right?"

Jak stared at her, horrified. He made a small noise, only half of a word escaping from his lips, unable to follow the thought through.

Keira shifted uncomfortably under her friend's terrified gaze. She was scared of this horrible truth too, and he wasn't making it any easier on her. She felt her eyes begin to moisten, but she sniffed the impending tears back, willing herself to be strong.

Finally, she decided on a way to tell Jak.

"Jak, I'm not sure that I'll be around much..." She allowed her voice to trail off before the thought hit home and she actually did break down.

"What?" Jak urged in a half hushed tone, knowing he was perusing something he really didn't want to know the answer to.

Keira refused to look at him. She took a deep breath, and Jak could see her eyes shimmer with the unshed tears.

Jak found his voice, as shaky as it was.

"Keira, what's wrong?" he asked with mounting concern. "Look at me. What's the matter?"

She coughed again, this time more violently. She took her hand away from Jak to cover her mouth.

"Keira!" Jak leaned over her to hit the "call" button on her bed guardrail. Keira reached out to cover the button with her other hand, enabling Jak to press it. Through the spasm of violent coughing, she shook her head. Jak watched, aghast, until the coughing subdued.

"You're... not supposed to... be here. You'll get... thrown out," she gasped.

"It doesn't matter," Jak scolded. "I don't want to see you in pain like that."

"That's just it." She leaned back onto her mattress. "You won't have to. Not for much longer."

"What do you mean?" he demanded.

She closed her eyes again, energy spent for the time being. Jak waited as patiently as he could for her to finish. When she opened her eyes again, her pain was clearly visible in her expression.

"I've lost a lot of blood, Jak."

"I know," Jak soothed. "But you'll get better. I promise."

"No. Ask the doctors. The infection has already set in, and it's been spreading." She tried not to think about what she was saying as she recited what the doctor had told her father. "Apparently, Metal Head related wounds almost always prove fatal." A tear fell from her eye regardless of her attempts to fight it back. "They're giving me a one-in-five chance of..."

"No!" Jak seethed. "Don't you dare talk like that!" The tears came freely now that his worst fears had been confirmed. "I'm not giving up on you, Keira Hagai. And neither are you!" In all truth, Jak had really known that the situation was bad, but even now in the face of everything he feared, he still wasn't ready to accept it. He _wouldn't _accept it.

"Jak, please don't..." Keira began, unable to stop the tear flow any longer. "Don't cry, baby. I... I'm trying so hard... I'm just telling you what the doctors are saying. I can't help it if..."

"Don't you leave me, Keira. Don't you leave me," Jak growled through clenched teeth, infuriated with whatever cruel entity had brought this upon her.

"Please, Jak, don't be angry," she pleaded, sobbing.

"No, you listen to me!" He took her hand and held it firmly with both of his. His deep blue eyes bored into her. "You're going to fight this thing. And you're going to win. Understand?" His whole body was trembling with suppressed rage and various other emotions he didn't have time to sort out.

Keira lowered her teary gaze and would not meet his eyes.

"Look at me, damn it!"

"Please stop yelling at me..."

"Than look at me!"

She shut her eyes, protesting to his raised voice.

"Keira, please..." His tone softened greatly as he bit back the next wave of tears. "If you won't do this for yourself, do it for Samos. Do it for your father. He believes in you. I believe in you."

She had opened her eyes again, but was still debating on whether or not to look at him.

"And Dax. He'll never be the same without you there to keep him in his place. And you'll be letting the entire city down if you're not here when next racing season comes around. They're all counting on you.

"And what about me, Keira?" he continued, his eyes never leaving her face, never stopping the search for her own beautiful green eyes. "What's going to happen to me if I have to live without you? Who's going to be there for me next time I twist my ankle on the jet-board? Who's going to throw soap in my eyes when I'm washing Dawg? Who's going to fix my racer next time I send it into a wall? I need you Keir." Without hesitation, he continued. "I love you."

The time had finally come to let her know.

Slowly, she brought her eyes up to meet his steady gaze.

"Okay." Her voice faltered, and she closed her eyes decisively. "I'll give it my all. For Daddy." She opened her eyes again and looked at Jak. "For you."

Jak let out a shaky sigh, lowering his head from verbal exhaustion. This talk had taken more out of him than fighting off those Metal Heads in Dead Town the day before.

"Jak?" Keira's timid voice brought his eyes back to her. She smiled weakly, contrasting her sad expression.

"I love you too."

* * *

A/N: So... review? Lemme know what you think. I had this chapter written (mostly) since sometime last year. Which tells you how slow I really am at getting things done. Anyhow, thank you Joy, for being so enthusiastic about this fic so far. That, at least, really helps. And Audrey, if you're even alive anymore, thanks for your dedication to proofreading up to this point.

Thanks also to anyone and everyone who sent me a review. Those are one of the things that keep me going all day. Like in Zoology, I'll really want to use the scalpel on my teacher in the worst way. But then I'll think, No, I have reviews to read. And where am I going to be able to access my e-mail from inside a prison cell? Thanks guys. You're keeping me out of jail.

Until my next mid-teen crisis...

-Alternative Delirium


	13. Chapter 13: Affections Revealed

A/N: Tired. So very tired. I'll leave you guys to read for now. But don't worry, I'll go ahead and post my usual rant later on. Like, when my eyes want to stay open of their own account. Enjoy, peoples.

A/N Update: Alrighty. So. If anyone cares, I'm still pissed off at Naughty Dog for what they did to the ending of Jak III. I think someone should approach them about this issue. Ashelin and Jak? No. That's not how it was supposed to work. And then they got rid of Anna Garduno and let Tara Strong have the voice talent… Grr. I don't want to get into it right now. Sorry to keep you waiting so long for this chapter, but I needed time to finish the game and get over the destruction of a perfectly good plot.

On a lighter note, I really appreciate the reviews I've been getting for this part of the story so far. I'd like to thank you all for taking the time to drop me a review here and there, as they continue to be my strongest source of motivation to write. Oh, and Krin? Sorry if that bugs you. I'll try to keep the pet names down to a minimum from here on out. :)

* * *

Jak held her eyes for a long moment, forgetting all that had led up to this room, this instant in which Keira had spoken those four little words he was afraid he'd never hear. All that he cared about was her sincere reply to his emotions. He smiled blissfully down at her slightly flushed face, and she had to look away, embarrassed now that their mutual feelings were out in the open.

Still perched on the bedside chair, Jak leaned in toward Keira and redirected her face back to him, tilting her chin gently to meet his eyes.

"Hey," he insisted quietly. He finished his thought the only way he knew how. She willingly met his lips in that same slow passion as their very first kiss, but this time, all the comfort of fourteen years of friendship was reflected in their physical expression of affection.

They pulled apart when Keira involuntarily gave a tiny cough, the effort from keeping it to herself causing her chest to tremble in protest.

She took a long, shaky breath, Jak watching the effects of the kiss show through her countenance. She opened her eyes halfway and peered up at him sorrowfully.

"I don't wanna die, Jak," she whispered, a childlike rejection of the terrible statistic poorly hidden in her tone.

"Shh…" he soothed, reseating himself on the edge of her cot. He took her hand, and she gripped it obsessively, as if to maintain her link with life through her lover. He knew she was scared. He was scared, too. He helped her into a sitting position, all the tenderness and encouragement his heart could hold radiating through the hug that he wrapped her up in. He held her, Keira returning the embrace just as fixatedly.

He whispered into her ear, "You don't have to do anything you don't want to."

Silence. The content, consistent _beep_ of her heart monitor was the only thing to break the peace.

"Ahem," a familiar voice spoke up from the doorway. They released one another, suddenly conscious of Daxter's presence. The ottsel smiled coyly at the pair, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Boy, you two just can't keep your paws off of one another, can you?" he asked in mock incredulity.

This comment would have normally gotten an aggressive rise out of his best friend, but Jak simply smiled tiredly at the rodent through his despondent disposition.

"Whatcha need, Dax?" he asked in weary good nature.

"Can't I say hello to my favorite patient?" Daxter replied optimistically, bounding swiftly into the room and onto the bed. He stood on Keira's left side, inspecting her expression. Although she had smiled gratefully at his remark, the tearstains were evident proof of her mood.

"Hey, hey, what's with the waterworks?" Dax asked gently, lifting her chin with his small paw to look her in the eye. She opened her mouth as if to explain, but decided it best to wait until she had to repeat the bad news. "Cheer up, kido," he encouraged. "It's not so bad. Just a scratch. I bet it'll buff right out." He grinned at this last statement, hoping that she had caught his stab at humor. She knew he had made an attempt to make her laugh, but his confidence in the 'scratch' being entirely healable had been spoken too soon.

Daxter, disappointed that his little pun hadn't brought any smiles, turned to Jak. He was rubbing at his face, trying to erase the wet trails that had left their mark, doing nothing but making the matter worse.

"Oh, not you too!" Dax whined, distressed, placing his hands on his hips irritably. "Somebody wanna fill me in here? It's lonely in the dark."

Jak looked to Keira for permission or consent or _anything_ that she had to offer him, but all that he could read was indecisive fear of having to do this again.

Impatient in waiting for a response from somebody, Daxter looked from one to the other and crossed his arms. "Well?" he prompted. "Are they peeling onions in the cafeteria or should I actually be worried?"

Annoyed with his persistent ridicule, Jak shot him through with an icy glare.

Daxter's eyes widened, showing that he understood that this was far beyond playful mockery. His arms dropped uselessly to his sides, and he glanced at Keira before returning his gaze to Jak. He was troubled now. "What's going on, guys?" he demanded, the alarm raising his voice an octave.

"Her…" Jak began in a low tone, hoping that Keira would forgive him for taking the initiative. "She… she's not as well off as we'd hope, Dax."

"I… I think I'm going to die, Daxter." Keira spoke up, hiding her mournful eyes from both her friends.

"You are not!" Jak lashed out, staring her down with an intense disapproval. She flinched at his harsh retort, the unexpected lecture causing her to look at him anxiously. Why was he so angry with her?

"Jeez, Keir," he swore under his breath, silently reprimanding himself for having the nerve to take it out on the one he loved most, the one that was suffering more than him. He met her troubled eyes. "Keira, I… I didn't mean to… I'm really sorry. I'm just really shook up about this, and I know you just want to get this over with, but I don't want to hear you say that. I just…"

"What!" Daxter shrieked, totally caught off guard. "You're _what_? Please tell me you're messing with me. Just say it. 'Gotcha', right guys?" he added hopefully, searching Keira's face for any sign of guilty pleasure at the imaginary prank. "_Right_, guys?"

"I'm not exactly in the mood to be joking around, Daxter," Keira replied monotonously.

"So you're… you're really…" Daxter's jaw dropped open in horror. "You can't be! You're too… You're _Keira_! I'm too young for you to die!" With that said, Dax lunged at her neck, wrapping his small arms around it in a desperate embrace. Keira, a little surprised by the sudden display of affection, reached up and scratched the ottsel between his ears soothingly.

"Oh, Daxter…" she whimpered, her voice cracking with emotion at her friend's concern.

"She's not… you're not going to die!" Jak interrupted firmly, passionately. He got up and paced to the end of the room at an urgent rate. With a growl of aggravation, he raked both his hands through his tousled hair. At the foot of the bed, he rounded on Keira.

"Could you two please show a little optimism for one freaking second?" he hissed vehemently. "Daxter, she's not going to… I won't let her… Aghh!" He massaged his temples, trying to take the advice of the little voice that kept telling him to slow down, to stop yelling at Keira. It didn't make anything better.

Daxter had let go of Keira, and now stood bewildered by Jak's grief. Keira followed Jak's incessant striding back and forth. Clearly he was under a lot of stress right now, but wasn't she entitled to her own misery?

"Jak? Love, sit down," she urged.

He stopped wandering about, and looked as if he were going to snap at her again. But his better side won over, and he obeyed her anxious plea. He sat on the edge of her bed again, forcing himself to take a slow breath before he spoke.

"Keira… I really don't mean to yell. I'm sorry. I need to… I need some time to absorb all this."

"It's okay." She reached for his arm. "I know. I feel exactly the same way as you do. Just breathe. Take one thing at a time."

Jak glanced at her wearily. She was going through worse than he was at the moment. _She_ had to battle the infection, fever and whatever else was to come her way. Not him. He just needed to remember that.

"It's because of those… those monsters…" he reasoned with himself aloud, anger once again gripping him now that its target had been shifted to the source.

Keira gave him a puzzled look, confused by his one-eighty degree turn of topic before she realized that he was referring to the Metal Heads that had ambushed them in Dead Town. Which reminded her…

"Holy Oracle!" she burst out, completely horrified that it had taken her this long to recall the warning she so urgently needed to relay to Jak.

Both Jak and Dax cast her stupefied looks, afraid that she had hurt herself. She ignored their baffled expressions and hurriedly began her shortened account of her conversation with Bane.

"Jak! Oh my God, I had completely forgot! Look, whatever you do, do _not_ go after the Metal Heads. No, listen," she continued, pushing Jak's perplexed questions and retorts back. There was no time for that. "It's Bane. You remember, from the Ottsel? The Underground meeting? Oh, come on, he was the guy you were so pissed at for flirting with me."

Jak _did_ remember now, when she put it that way. He reddened slightly; wondering how she was so perceptive in that observation, but did nothing to ease the situation at the time.

She went on.

"Jak, Bane is the bad guy! He's the one behind the attacks, he's the one organizing the Metal Heads into such structured groups. He's the one that had me kidnapped."

"But… why?" he inquired, this new information topping off all that he had learned about Keira's condition in the past hour.

"I don't know. He wants you, Jak. He's got it in for you. He didn't intend to have me hurt… He was actually planning to use me as bait for the trap. _Your_ trap. He thought that you'd come looking for me sooner or later and when you found me, he was going to attack you from behind."

"He told you all this?"

"Yes! And that's why I had to get out. If he had kept this to himself, I'd probably be back in that infested pit, waiting for you. And then you would have…" she trailed off, not willing to think about the possible alternate outcomes to their circumstance.

Jak grabbed her shoulders and looked straight into her emerald eyes, his anger creating a frozen, unfeeling spark in his own. "Where is he? Where the hell is this bastard?"

"No!" Keira cried, using her own hands to remove Jak's from her shoulders. "This is exactly what you're _not_ supposed to ask me! Jak, you're not going after him. You… you can't!"

"Keira, this psycho would have watched you die and thought nothing of it. He hurt you, Keira! All because he's trying to get to me? I don't even know why and I'm still motivated to break his neck. Damn it, I can't let him get away with hurting you." Jak's face was red again, those beautiful blue eyes darkening to the color of impending storm clouds.

"I shot him." Keira blurted out the first thing that she thought might put him off of looking for his formidable enemy.

Jak looked shocked.

"You did what?"

"With his own gun," she pressed.

"So he's dead?" Jak looked more confused than ever.

"No, I… I got him in the leg," she confessed, lowering her eyes.

"Did you have a clean shot at him?"

"Yes, but I…"

"Then why didn't you take him out?" he asked heatedly.

"Because I…"

"All that training and you got him in the _leg_?"

"I couldn't kill him, alright?" she shouted, annoyed with his criticism.

Jak stopped, the anger in his face receding a bit. Of course Keira wouldn't have killed him. That wasn't the way she would have handled it. Her nature was far too compassionate.

"I…" she started, all the while reanalyzing her decision. Maybe she _should_ have aimed truer. In a way, she could be responsible for Jak's death if she couldn't convince him to stay put. This thought brought emotion back into her tone. "I didn't want murder on my conscious. I should have done it. I needed to have killed him. God, why didn't I do it?" Now she was infuriated with herself.

"Come here, Keir," Jak insisted in a surprisingly calm tone. He understood more than she could know. No one should have to destroy another person. It wasn't right. And it would have been a traumatic experience on her part. Knowing Keira, she would probably never be the same again afterwards.

Keira didn't slide into his arms, but didn't resist either when Jak enveloped her in another embrace. She went limp and let her head fall onto his shoulder for support. Jak leaned over her head and planted a soft kiss to the top of her hair.

"You didn't do anything wrong."

"I didn't do anything right, either," she moaned.

"You got out of there easily enough. That counts for something."

Keira pulled away from him and refused to meet his eyes.

"There's something else… I didn't know how else to get away from there and get back to you, so I… I seduced him." She spoke in a low, ashamed tone.

"Bane?" Jak asked, surprised that this sweet, innocent young woman that he had known for as far back as he could remember had the hidden capability to actively, _purposely_, seduce anyone.

"Yeah," she admitted, the regret mirrored in her eyes as she looked back to his face and sought for forgiveness.

"Did you… did… How far did this go?" he inquired, not at all angry or jealous. Shocked, maybe, but not frustrated.

Sensing that Jak was taking this much better than she'd assumed, she continued truthfully, "I kissed him. I'm sorry," she added hastily, noting the fleeting expression of disgust that passed his face at this remark. "I didn't want to. But I had to! To get his gun."

Jak put his head in one hand, trying to imagine this. There was no way… He almost laughed. The situation was mildly amusing to him… from a distance.

Keira misread his gesture and immediately assumed that she'd offended him. To try and bring him around, she added the one fact that she would never have thought she'd share with him.

"I closed my eyes and forced myself to pretend it was you." Jak let a short laugh escape, and his head came up to look at her with a smiling sparkle in his eye. _Jeez, _she thought bitterly, but not without relief. The big idiot thought it was funny!

Daxter too, had taken note of her last comment, and was standing at her feet, hands on hips. A roguish smile played at the corners of his mouth, and he had an eyebrow raised in their direction.

"Aww," the ottsel mocked. "So, tell me Keira. Is Jak a good kisser? Or do you prefer homicidal psychopaths?"

An airborne pillow managed to knock Daxter off of the bed and onto the floor, courtesy of Keira's temper.

Jak chuckled, watching his girlfriend's expression of pure annoyance and malice aimed in the general direction of the rodent's bruised body.

She turned her venomous glare on him.

"You think it was amusing?" she hissed with just enough vindictive fervor to keep their spirits in a playful disposition and still get her point across. "The guy's a creep. I almost got sick just thinking about it! And I felt so… dirty…"

"I believe you." Jak gave her a warm smile, not a hint of sarcasm or delight at her expense left in his features. "If you had to do it, then you had to do it. All that matters is that you're here, safe." He reached out and stroked her cheek affectionately.

Keira smiled back, in spite of herself.

The only sound that followed for a few precious moments was that of Daxter peeling himself off of the hospital floor and mumbling obscenities to himself as he made a show of dusting off his arms.

Minutes later, the sage appeared in the doorway, cautiously poking his head around the corner. He scowled at Daxter in habit, then glanced up at his daughter and offered a sad little grin.

"Hi sweetie. How do you feel?" He tromped into the room to Keira's bedside.

"Hey Daddy. Not as bad as you'd think." She smiled encouragingly at her father. He reached for her hand, and she took it, gripping it firmly. She hoped this would show her father that she was getting stronger, just to ease his worry.

"You just focus on getting well," he urged her resolutely. Keira nodded obediently, casting a warning glance at Jak. _Not a word_, her eyes said.

Jak turned his head and looked away, signaling that he knew, he understood.

The green sage looked over his shoulder to the door discreetly. When he confirmed that no one was coming, he turned his gaze back on his daughter.

"Now, the doctors are against using unrefined eco in medical practices. They think it's too powerful to pump any amount into a regular patient, the bunch of superstitious fools. I'm no doctor, but I do happen to be the only master of green eco in this city, and I thought that I might…"

Keira interrupted him.

"You'd better not." She gave him a grateful look for his offer, but refused it just the same. "Not now, at least. Best leave it to the medics, for now. Maybe when I'm out of here."

"Are you sure?" Samos looked indignant that his own flesh and blood thought him unfit to help her healing process. "It would dull the pain, if nothing else…"

She shook her head.

"Thanks, but no thanks. I don't want any weird reactions to the stuff they already have me on."

He opened his mouth as if to protest, but seemed to decide that this was a good point. He sighed.

"Alright," he relented. He looked from Keira to Jak, and then to Daxter, who had made himself comfortable on Jak's shoulder. His face fell into that familiar frown. "These boys aren't giving you any grief, are they?" he directed at Keira, hooking a thumb over his shoulder at the two.

She raised an eyebrow at Jak playfully, but reconsidered her sarcastic answer. "No, Daddy."

"Well, I'm afraid I'm going to have to take them off your hands," the sage replied gruffly, nodding at the door. "Visiting hour's over. They say either get out or hole up in the waiting room for the rest of the day. Ridiculous," he scoffed.

Keira grinned at her father's never-changing attitude and shook her head slowly.

Samos bent his head to kiss the hand he held, and Keira squeezed his hand gently in response. "Mind the doctors, sweetheart," he said in departure.

"Okay. I'll see you in a while, Daddy."

The sage looked to the boys, both of whom were being extremely quiet, hoping to be overlooked.

"Well?" he demanded. "Are you slackers coming, or am I going to have to drag you out by your ears again?"

Jak smiled at the short little man. "Yeah, we'll follow," he promised. Samos snorted his satisfaction and headed out the door.

Daxter leapt back onto Keira's bed, fixing her with a very serious expression. "I'll be back with your old man later on," he began, his tone holding a threatening edge. "_You_." He stretched one arm out to its full extent to point a finger at her face and poked her in the nose pointedly. "Don't die."

With this strange request, he hopped down and followed the sage out of the door.

Jak stared after his friend, amused with his behavior. He brought his eyes back to Keira when he felt her hand searching for his. He took it, letting their fingers intertwine.

"You won't go after Bane, will you?" she asked, her eyes pleading with him to consider her happiness.

Jak couldn't promise her this. Instead, he leant down and pressed his lips to hers, taking advantage of their being alone. Keira began to indulge in the kiss, but stopped herself, realizing this was a distraction. She pulled her face away from him abruptly, her arms still draped around his neck. She looked up at him, into his eyes, her hard gaze demanding an answer.

"I don't know," he stated as truthfully as he could.

"Jak…"

"I love you, Keira."

"And I love you, but that's why I…"

"I don't like to see you like this."

"Jak, will you listen to me?"

"Hang in there. Try to feel better, okay?"

Jak pulled away from her embrace, despite her reluctance to let go. He bent down and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek before he walked away.

"Jak!" He stopped and turned, his eyebrows raised.

"Bane's strong. He's really pissed off, and crazy enough to do something stupid," she warned, her last desperate plea for him to humor her just this once.

Jak acknowledged this warning with a comment of his own as he strode out the door.

"Looks to me like we're evenly matched, then."

* * *

A/N: Zzzzzzz….. Review please. I'm gonna go crash. 

-Alternative Delirium


	14. Chapter 14: Twisted Motivations

A/N: So, what's it been, like, a decade? I've decided that it bothers me that I have yet to finish this fic. It's been two years plus. There is no excuse for this kind of anticipation. Or something. Anyway, I've had my heart broken irreparably since last I posted, so I'm going to go ahead and blame that for my prolonged delay. And if there seems to be a lack of passion, well, let's go ahead and blame my ex for that too, shall we?

* * *

"Jak, wait!" Keira called after him, sensing that any more attempts to keep him from finding his adversary were futile. Still, she pleaded with him until he was well out of earshot. 

"Please don't go. Jak? He'll kill you." By now she was whispering, her voice hoarse from constant use. She forced herself into a sitting position, her back against the firm pillows. She hung her head in defeat. He was gone. Probably walking out the lobby doors now. _Right into Bane's hands,_ she moaned mentally. _So it's all over. I let him leave. I screwed up and told Jak where to find him. I should have just kept my mouth shut. _

Absentmindedly, she bunched the sheets in her fists. _Damn it, if I wasn't so useless, stuck here in this stupid hospital… I know that I could stop him if I wasn't such an invalid! _She used her fists to pound the side of the cot in frustration. The motion brought on a particularly savage pain that tore through her side like a lightning bolt.

"Oh God," she gasped, her spine straightening and throwing her head back at an angle.

A thought passed through her mind, unformed and immediately dismissed. _No,_ she told herself, that wasn't even an option. Sure, her father had offered, but it had been a ridiculous suggestion. She knew he had just been trying to make her feel better. He wouldn't really do it…

But still…

The same thought floated to the surface again and found words inside her head. _He could pump me full of green eco._

Her first mental reply was to deny it, to argue it away. She knew that large amounts of unrefined eco could act as a slow-working poison in any normal person's bloodstream. Jak might be able to handle it. He had used to be so good at channeling organic eco. But Keira didn't have that talent, as far as she knew. Of course, she had never really tried to use unrefined eco to that extent, but she was still tentative to do something that could have harsh repercussions. Using that much raw energy would give her the strength she needed to get out of this hospital and find Jak before it was too late, but later on, it could start to eat away at her and, in the long run, kill her.

_What the hell do I care? I'm dying here anyway. _

Before she could hesitate another moment, she reached out and grasped the bedside communicator.

Samos answered on the fourth ring.

"Hello?"

"Daddy."

"Keira? What is it, dear? Is everything…"

"Daddy?" Her voice began to crack. This was too much. She had finally confessed her feelings to Jak, and now she was going to loose him. He was going to get himself killed, and she could do nothing about it. No, that wasn't true. She could try.

"It hurts. So bad. Please, help me Daddy." She wasn't really lying. She was in a great amount of physical pain, but that wasn't what she was referring to. Her heart was broken.

Samos hid his panic well for the sake of his daughter. He sounded resolute and calm when he spoke.

"Of course, sweetheart, of course I will. Hold on, honey, I'm on my way."

There was a click. Keira dropped the com-link on the bed and sat waiting, frozen with a sudden chilling trepidation.

* * *

Jak straddled the zoomer and pulled his orange racing helmet over his ears roughly. It had taken him a little less than an hour to get home and prepare himself for whatever lay in wait at the nest. Truth be told, he'd had absolutely no intention of honoring Keira's request that he stay put. Once he'd identified the culprit and had hazarded a guess as to his location, Jak had been of one thought only. _Find the bastard and take him out. _

Daxter had watched in an uneasy silence as Jak loaded up. He knew without having to be told exactly what Jak had in mind. The ottsel had a few fleeting thoughts of hiding or trying very hard to be overlooked so as to escape partnership in the impending road trip, but those thoughts quickly diminished. Jak was his best friend. If he wanted to walk hopelessly into the eye of the hurricane, Dax was right there with him, even if they were doomed to perish without cause. With a resigned sigh and a sad little shake of his furry head, Daxter followed Jak out into the drive.

Much to the rodent's surprise, Jak started the vehicle and took off before Daxter could get his arms over the saddle. He stood dumbfounded in the wake of Jak's dust as the taller boy swerved out onto the road beyond the hut and picked up speed.

* * *

Bane stumbled into the mouth of the nest, screaming and limping, his hands pressed white-knuckle tight onto his wounded leg. There was an immediate flurry of activity as some of the higher ranking Metal Heads hurried to their commander's side, an air of confusion about them. Above explaining himself, Bane reached out for the support of a nearby slinger. He took a moment to catch his breath, then lifted his menacing eyes to scan the faces of the surrounding beasts. His gaze came to rest on a particularly large troop. 

"You," he nodded curtly toward the monstrosity. Obedient, the troop took a step forward and grunted a response. "Assemble the most powerful army you can with whatever we can spare. Be ready to march toward the city. Quickly, now. Go!"

The troop gave a hasty salute before turning and running back into the heart of the nest. The remainder of the Metal Heads stood about nervously, dumbly awaiting orders. Their confusion was evident. Bane sucked in air, gritting his teeth as a fresh wave of agony shot through his whole body. A more brazen Metal Head approached his injured leader as Bane gave vent to his frustration and pain in a guttural roar of hatred.

"Sir?" it inquired.

"She got away!" he screamed in response, talking out loud to distract his racing mind. He shut his eyes tight against the defeat, but continued. "The bitch shot me, she lied to me and stole my gun… Damn it all, she took the air train! Christ, if she doesn't pass out from the blood loss on her way back, she'll tell that murderous son of a bitch everything! He'll be looking for me… for us… he'll be on his way. The only move left to make is to intercept him. Get to him before he gets to us. Keep him the hell away from here. Kill him! Hold nothing back. Go, all of you!" He gestured frantically after the departed troop. "Go, find Jak and kill him!"

There was disorder as the Metal Heads ran into each other in their haste to be out of their master's sight. The slinger that had been supporting Bane's weight shifted to let him down in order to follow his command.

"Wait," he ordered. "Not you. I want you to take me to the Source. I need to heal myself. But afterwards…" his tone grew darker, and his grip on the beast's shoulder dug deeper. "You will also go into the city. Directly. I will arrange a vehicle for you. Avoid being seen. The girl will be alone when Jak comes for me. Find her." The slinger nodded and began to walk with Bane. "And," Bane stopped the creature again by jerking on its shoulder. "Spare the chivalry. Dispose of her."

* * *

Keira jolted out of her reverie at the sound of her in-room communicator's fervent ring. She groaned at the pain in her side from the movement, but managed to reach the device where it lay on the bed. 

"Yes?" she answered groggily.

"Sorry to disturb you, kid," Torn's rough voice emanated from the other line. "How're you feeling, by the way?"

Baffled, Keira furrowed her brow. "Umm, I've been better…"

"Look, I need to speak with Jak."

Keira glanced about the room, confused. "He's not… Jak isn't here right now. Is there something…?"

Torn swore. "Do you know when he left?"

She squinted to check the wall clock.

"Forty-five minutes ago? Torn, what's…"

"You don't know where he'd be right now, do you?" Torn sounded desperate.

"He's not at home? Did you try Daddy…?"

"Yes, we've called everywhere. Samos is clueless, and when I tried Jak's communicator, the furball answered. He said Jak had left just a while ago, took off without a word. I figured he was coming back to see you…"

Keira stopped listening. She felt like she was spiraling downward, suddenly dizzy. She leaned against the head of her cot.

"Oh my God," she whispered.

Torn ceased talking. Then, "What? Have you thought of something?"

Keira didn't answer.

"Hey, what the hell's going on? Where's Jak? Keira? Keira! If you know something, you've got to tell me. There's a huge blip on the radar heading straight for Haven, and I need Jak out there to…"

Keira wasn't listening. The communicator hung limply in her hand. He had gone to find Bane. She knew that he would, but it still came as an unwelcome shock. She had told him, _begged _him to stay put! Why couldn't he see that he meant everything to her?

_Jak, what have you done?_

She brought the device back up to her ear, Torn's fuming voice snapping angrily at her.

"…know that you've been through a really rough time, and I'm sorry. But I need to know…"

"Torn, I'm sorry. I have to go."

She disconnected the call.

Her mind buzzed with a rush of worried, frenzied thoughts, none of which helped in the least. She reminded herself that help was on the way. Samos would be there any moment now…

_Daddy, _she begged mentally, _please hurry._

* * *

Jak rode on, his countenance stony. He had seen the approach of the Metal Head army, its number far greater than it had been in Dead Town, but he hardly perceived them as a threat. Merely another obstacle. He had time to maneuver around the oncoming attack, but he chose not to. After all, these creatures were the source of all his problems. 

He clenched his teeth, loosened his gun in its holster, and closed the distance between them.

The first Metal Head went down under the belly of the zoomer.

The rest gave the vehicle a wide berth, but Jak redirected its course and mowed a few more under. He headed for an area where several of the beasts were condensed. A yard away, he kicked the zoomer over onto its side and leapt from the vehicle, letting it smash into the group with all the momentum and killing capacity of cannon fire.

His gun was blazing before his feet touched earth.

Jak's vision was obscured with red. Everywhere he looked, the angry hue urged him to carry on, quickly slaughter each and every one of the monsters. They all looked the same to him. Each represented Keira's death, and to stop them was to thwart her demise.

_Bam. _Every harsh report of the gun was one more dead.

_Bam. Bam. Bam, bam, bam bambambambambambambambambambambambambambam!_

Jak's mind was on overload. Thoughts flew about, but none of them were coherent. Everything was garbled. Rage and hatred were the only things his tortured mind had room for, and he gave vent to them through the muzzle of his gun.

_Bam. Bam. Click._

Empty.

With a scream of fury, he gripped the gun's muzzle in both hands as if it were a club. The blasts of gunfire were soon replaced with the sickening sound of metal connecting with metal and flesh repeatedly.

Thwack. Thwack. Thwack! THWACKTHWACKTHWACK… 

Pain lanced through him as a Metal Head overcame his blows and leapt forward to sink its teeth into his arm. Dropping the gun, Jak quickly found the monster's head and broke its neck with his hands. Tears were falling freely from his eyes, tears for Keira.

He lashed out again and again at the Metal Heads that were quickly overcoming him, his strength draining, but his will as strong as ever.

"I'll kill every last one of you sonsabitches!" he roared defiantly at the onslaught.

As soon as the heated words had left his mouth, the ominous red color began to grow darker, fading to black. There was nothing for a moment. Jak blacked out, entirely oblivious to everything for a few seconds.

When his eyelids began to flicker open, he found he was still moving. His fists were still shooting out at his enemies at great speed. But these fists were accessorized with long black talons…

Jak knew he couldn't move his limbs. He didn't try. He could only watch as this demon inside of him (or was he inside of it?) took out every animal within a fifty-yard radius. Dark electricity shot sporadically through his tainted veins as he observed the total annihilation of the remaining Metal Head army.

He felt lightheaded. Dizzy. He stumbled backwards to maintain his balance, and his vision cleared. He took in the battlefield with one sweeping glance.

Nothing moved. Carnage was strewn everywhere. Two hundred Metal Head corpses lay scattered like so many dropped flies.

Jak ran a hand down his face. He stared at the red wetness that clung to his fingers as he pulled it away. Blood. Must be a cut.

Without further hesitation, he located his dented zoomer, straddled the vehicle and kept going.

* * *

It felt like her veins had caught fire. She gripped the edges of her cot tightly and clenched her eyes shut against the torrent of lightning that ripped through her body. It took all the willpower she possessed not to scream in agony as her father quickly administered a large dose of green eco into her bloodstream. 

He had forewarned her of the possibility of this pain, but she had been willing to endure it. He had said it would only last for a moment.

The moment stretched forever.

Finally, after a blindingly white light had exploded behind her closed eyes, the pain had ceased. Disappeared. And wherever it had gone, it had taken her previously acquired hurts with it.

Keira took a deep breath and let it out slowly. When this brought no unwelcome repercussions, she stretched experimentally. This too proved painless. A wave of giddy relief washed over her, and she briefly wondered if the wound itself had disappeared too.

She was disillusioned of such an idea when she lifted the hem of her gown to see that the ugly gash remained unchanged. The eco had done nothing in the way of 'healing' her; it had only acted as a very potent painkiller. Rationally, she knew that the organic eco would help speed the remedial process, but this didn't stop her from being disappointed. She was still dying, whether or not she felt better.

She immediately shook her head, clearing it of the unhappy thought.

_I can't start thinking like that. This is the opportunity I've asked for. If I feel well, I am well. Well enough to get out of here and stop Jak from getting himself killed. _

Samos was watching her in silence, gauging just how much he had helped his daughter. She felt his eyes weighing her expression. She glanced up and gave him a soft smile.

"Any better?" he asked hopefully.

"Much," she sighed, sinking back onto her pillow. "Thank you, Daddy. You're a lifesaver." As soon as the words left her mouth, she wished she could take them back. Her father winced at her statement, and Keira could have sworn she saw his eyes moisten. She wanted to say something to console him, but to do so would be admitting that she had overheard the doctor, and she knew Samos could not handle that.

Samos composed himself and cleared his throat. Keira pretended not to notice.

"Is there anything you need, sweetheart? Anything I can take care of while I'm here?"

He was breaking her heart, being so fatherly when all she could think about was Jak.

She shook her head slowly, feigning fatigue. She felt horrible, manipulating her father so that she could find Jak. But she loved Jak so much… She knew her father would forgive her.

She closed her eyes and forced her breathing into an even, regulated pattern. If she pretended to be asleep, Samos would go back home, thinking he had done everything he could to ease her suffering. And she needed him to go soon.

Ten minutes later, Samos whispered, "Keira? Are you asleep?" Keira did not answer, but continued to breathe evenly. Her father waited a moment more, then stroked her hair tenderly before clomping out the door as silently as he could.

Keira kept her act up for a few minutes longer, just in case. When everything was still as silent as it had been, she opened her eyes.

She worked quickly, sliding out of bed and finding her clothes in the small bathroom cubicle. She changed, leaving the patients' gown draped over the sink. Using her teeth, she removed the wristband from her arm and stuck it in her back pocket. She glanced at herself in the small mirror over the sink, and combed her fingers through her hair a few times to smooth it out. Convinced that she looked as 'normal' as she was going to get, she moved silently to the hall door.

Escaping was much easier than she had expected. Her heart raced every step of the way, but no one came after her. It was getting late, and most of the visitors were leaving. She had very little trouble blending in and sneaking out with the crowd. Every time she spotted a white jacket, she quickly glanced in the other direction, as if something important or interesting had caught her eye. In less than fifteen minutes, she was out the lobby doors.

In the parking lot, Keira was momentarily at a loss for what to do. She stood outside the hospital doors a moment, eyeing the plethora of vehicles dazedly. It had never occurred to her that she might have to steal a means of transportation, but she was far from letting her morals get in the way of saving Jak. She was about to settle for the nearest zoomer when another option caught her attention.

Parked off to the side was an idling Guard zoomer. The keys had been left in the ignition. _Much faster than hotwiring_, she conceded. She looked around for the guard that had left it there and, seeing no one close, she began to walk towards it purposefully.

In three minutes, she was speeding out onto the open hover-lane, the shouts of an angry guard effectively drowned out in the hum of the engine.

* * *

Daxter had long since given up waiting for Jak to return. At first, he had sat down on the front step, thinking that Jak had simply forgotten him and would be back to pick him up with an apologetic grin on his face. And he'd waited for the better part of an hour. Grudgingly, he'd gone back inside the hut. 

Torn had called a few minutes later, wanting to know where Jak was. Annoyed, Daxter answered his questions shortly and disconnected the link.

He sighed and turned on the television, flipping through channels absentmindedly. There was nothing on, but he left the machine's volume up anyway to provide some background ambience.

He hated being alone. It reminded him too much of those two years he'd had to fly solo when everyone had gotten separated through the rift gate…

The soft growl of a parking zoomer broke into his melancholy thoughts. The sound startled him, and for a moment he wondered who it could be. Then he remembered Jak's hasty departure, and decided that his neglectful friend had finally returned. Relieved, Daxter quickly bounded to the door.

As he opened the front door, he tried his best to sound annoyed and condescending.

"I was wondering when you'd realize you had _inadvertently_…" Daxter eyed the unfamiliar vehicle in confusion. "You're not Jak."

A young woman stepped down from the saddle, not bothering to turn the engine off. The zoomer was a Krimzon Guard model, complete with mounted frontal turret. Daxter gulped as the woman approached, fearing momentarily that he'd been ratted out on his stash of illegal Lurker brew.

"Look, officer, I'm sure we can work something out…" he stumbled nervously, backing into the closed door behind him. "I was set up! Those no-good Lurker bootleggers are the ones you should be…"

The girl had gotten close enough to see clearly, and Daxter stopped his babbling. It was Keira. Keira, who he had just left in the hospital not four hours before. Keira, who was supposed to be bedridden, unable to move, much less be discharged. Keira, who was dying slowly from a grievous injury. She was right in front of him, and he still couldn't believe it.

His jaw must have been touching the ground.

She was wearing jeans and a fresh white top, no doubt brought to the hospital by her father. Her hair was tousled from the ride over, and her face was pale with worry. But she looked healthy enough to him.

She closed the gap between them in purposeful strides.

"Where is he?" she demanded without preamble. Normally, Daxter would have made an indignant comment, but the naked pain in her voice and eyes kept him from doing so.

"Daxter, where did he go? Where's Jak?" she pressed frantically.

"Keira, what the hell…?" was all he could choke out. How could she be here? Why wasn't she back in her hospital cot, fighting infection and death? He just couldn't understand.

"Daxter, please…" Her voice was beginning to crack. She was terrified of something, but what, he did not know.

Shaking his head and clearing his mind of any more questions, he forced himself to help his frightened friend. He could work out the details later. Right now, Keira needed him.

"Jak left an hour and a half ago. He didn't tell me where he was headed; he didn't really say anything to me at all. Just took off." He paused a moment, thinking about the call he had received from Torn. "And then Torn called. After he left. What's going on? Is there something wrong? Why's everyone so interested in what Jak's doing right now?" The first cold needles of fear bit into him. Was his best friend in trouble?

Keira made a pitiful noise, something between a mournful groan and a cry of frustration.

"Keira? What's…"

She wasn't listening to him. She had turned around and was running back to her idling zoomer.

Refusing to be left behind a second time, Daxter sprang after her.

"Hey! Wait a second!" he called angrily.

Keira did not stop until she had straddled the zoomer once more. She barely paused long enough to allow Daxter to leap up behind her before revving the engine and peeling out. Dax was forced to grab her belt loops in order to stay on the vehicle, and he screamed as Keira raced away, unheeding of the speed limit.

* * *

Daxter spotted the Metal Head first. 

It was heading in their direction, awkwardly seated on a zoomer. Daxter gripped Keira's shoulder and hid behind her as best he could.

"Aw, crap," he whimpered.

Keira followed his gaze. Her breath caught in her throat. The slinger was driving straight towards them, clumsily maneuvering the vehicle closer. She jerked their zoomer to a sudden halt, unsure of what to do. What was it doing? Was it looking for something, _someone_, in particular?

She knew that was a stupid question.

_It's after me, _she thought woefully. _Bane's sent it to kill me. He knows Jak is coming for him, and he wants to use me as leverage. Shit. I'm going to get myself killed trying to save Jak._

The Metal Head was close now, slowing down as it saw Keira was in no hurry to escape.

Daxter crawled up onto Keira's shoulder, his ears drooping in fright. "Um, Keira, I think we may be in trouble," he began, his voice raising an octave to punctuate his panic. "Maybe we should, you know, DO SOMETHING!"

Daxter's fervent plea to take action triggered something inside Keira. She was suddenly angry at being the means to Jak's end. She was tired of being the tool, the leverage. And she wanted to do something about it. She wanted to fight back.

_I am NOT going to be the victim this time, _she growled mentally, gritting her teeth. _I'm so freaking tired of being the damsel in distress. It's my turn to do a little damage._

She hit the accelerator. The zoomer took off from its standstill, charging unthinkingly forward. Daxter held on tight and screamed again, eyes wide with terror at Keira's recklessness. He had come to expect this sort of rash behavior from Jak, but from Keira?

The slinger, confused, tried to move its vehicle out of the path of the racing zoomer. Keira waited until she was almost on top of the Metal Head, Daxter shouting in her ear. With a cold determination, she used the turret to fire several rounds into the beast and its zoomer, killing the monster and causing the vehicle to swerve uncontrollably towards them.

She braked hard, turning out of the course of the flaming zoomer just before it touched down, crashing into a blazing inferno.

Keira didn't even stop. She straightened the zoomer's trajectory and sped up, not bothering to look back.

Daxter had stopped yelling, his face a mask of wonderment. He glanced over his shoulder at the flaming wreckage, stunned into silence. He looked back at Keira. Her face betrayed no emotion except a hard resolve. Something was most definitely wrong, and as the burning rubble behind them sped out of sight, he wondered if he shouldn't have just stayed at home.

* * *

Jak dropped down from the zoomer, leaving the keys in the ignition. He removed his gun from its holster and quickly reloaded, cursing himself for not bringing more ammunition. 

The Nest was before him, its mouth not ten yards away. He kept glancing over his shoulders as he approached, but there were no Metal Heads to be seen. He decided that the majority of the army had already been thrown at him, and upon entering the Nest, he was quite confident that there wouldn't be much resistance to his invasion. At least, he hoped so. As willing and eager as he was to destroy anything that might deter him from his objective, he knew that he wasn't quite ready to take on another onslaught like the army he had defeated earlier.

He began to relax a bit as he traversed the winding, narrow tunnels of the Metal Head Nest. It seemed that nothing was lying in wait for him. Nothing breathed or moved. The only sound was that of a continuous dripping noise, liquid on liquid, growing clearer as he continued deeper. He had not altogether let his guard down, however; his previous encounters with the metal beasts had taught him that much.

Jak had been delving deeper into the Nest for the better part of half an hour before he rounded a corner that opened up into a large cavern. The ceiling here was much higher than the preceding tunnels, and Jak could see momentous stalactites holding fast to the rock, pointing dangerously downward. The dripping noise was magnified here, echoing eerily off of the walls. The sound had been created by the effect of water falling from the tips of the stalactites and landing in the large underground lake below.

Jak entered the room completely, alert again for any danger. He wouldn't be able to watch his every side now, in this giant open space. It would be the perfect spot for an ambush, and Jak approached the dark lake cautiously.

His investigation was interrupted by the sharp sound of clapping. He whirled, gun immediately out and searching for a target on the opposite shore of the pool. The clapping did not falter, and Jak finally located the source. High above him, standing placidly on a crumbling formation that had once been a mighty stalagmite, stood Bane.

He grinned easily down at Jak, white teeth flashing in the darkness.

"Well, well," he began conversationally. "Bravo, Jak. I see you've somehow gotten past my legion." He sighed regretfully. "I can't say I'm surprised. Though it would have made my life easier if they'd done their job," he added wistfully.

Jak gritted his teeth, his grip on the morph-gun tightening.

"I don't know who you are or what you're trying to prove, but you started something pal, and I'm here to finish it," Jak seethed. "You messed with the wrong girl."

Bane laughed. The sound sent involuntary chills up Jak's spine.

"Keira? Hardly. She was just a pawn. Tragedy though, isn't it? Such a promising young lady. So sweet. So beautiful. So dangerously naïve. Too bad. She would have made such a lovely wife. Don't you agree?"

BAM. One well placed shot had rent Bane's throat open. Jak was not about to stand here and listen to this bastard's gloating monologue. He knew that Keira was dying, and he was toying with Jak, torturing him with images of things that could have been. The overwhelming emotions that came with these doomed visions would have brought him to his knees had he not been blinded by fury. He squeezed the trigger and silenced his vindictive enemy.

But there was no blood. The wound did not bleed, and Bane did not even blink.

"I'm going to go ahead and take that as a fervent 'yes.'"

"What the hell are you?" Jak yelled, his fury mixed with a hint of fear.

Bane's dark eyes flashed treacherously.

"What am I? _What_ am I?" he spat venomously from his perch. "I will show you _what_ I am!"

Bane leapt from the demolished rock formation to land on his feet on the shore of the black lake. At eye level, Jak could feel something tantalizingly familiar about Bane. He had been in this position before. But he couldn't quite place it…

Bane knelt down to touch the water of the dark pool.

_Not water,_ Jak realized with dawning horror. _Eco. Dark Eco._

"Do you remember destroying my father, Jak? Do you remember mounting his head on the wall of that despicable little tavern? Did you know how much you'd ruined when you took his life?"

Stunned, Jak absorbed this revolution with a numb hatred. So Bane was Kor's son. It shouldn't have surprised Jak that Kor had sired a son. But the Metal Head leader had never really seemed the father-figure type. So Jak had killed Kor, and in effect, royally pissed off his son.

_Shit._

"I see it's all coming back to you now," Bane glowered contemptuously. "Good. I'd hate for you to think you were going to die without reason."

A thought stuck Jak.

"What do you care? So I took out your old man. That just opens up the executive position, doesn't it? Don't try to tell me that Metal Heads have familial ties. You don't feel love. And with you being the next in line to take the throne…"

Bane sneered.

"So you would think. But in killing my father, you've effectively put an end to the era of the Hora Quan. There is no central consolidation of Metal Heads left to rule. You've scattered them, Jak. They are all gone. And alone, we are not as strong as we were together. You've struck a mighty blow, one that's not only made us vulnerable, but that has put us on the brink of extinction. You've destroyed my father, my right to reign as leader, and my species. For that, I will take your life," he growled, something in his voice becoming feral.

If this speech was meant to shake Jak, it didn't work.

"And you've taken the only thing I care about. That girl means more to me than anything you could imagine. And now she's dying a death that you deserve. You should have left her out of this. And that's why you won't be able to touch me. I'm going to tear you apart," Jak retorted, on the edge of uncontrolled rage. His vision was swimming with bitter tears, anger the only thing keeping them from spilling over. He could not fall to this monster. Not now. Not when he had this chance to avenge his lover's death.

Bane roared. With this guttural scream of fury, he began to lose his shape. The disguise he wore over his true form split and gave way, multiple legs protruding from the tatters of clothing. Bane was enormous. He unfolded his taloned fingers and stretched out to his full capacity, membranous wings unfurling and fanning the stale air furiously. The golden head plate loomed eight feet above Jak when Bane had finally ceased to grow. A huge mouthful of satrical fangs seemed to grin down at him.

"You _will_ die!" the monstrosity roared in a deep, bestial tone.

Jak cocked his gun in preparation, a grim expression on his face.

"Let's finish this."

* * *

A/N: Be patient, the finale is on it's way. I know that I've taken way too much time in updating, but I thank every one of you who have taken the time to read this far. I really appreciate the feedback I get from you guys, it really helps. So if you feel like dropping me a review, you'd make my day that much better. Thanks. 

-Alternative Delirium


	15. Chapter 15: Finality

A/N: Hells yeah, finale time. Sort of. Time to deliver the final body blow to this four year venture. Well guys, what can I say? It's been real. Enjoy the conclusion. Reviews are more than welcome. Peace easy.

* * *

Jak dove under an outcropping of stone, rolling with the momentum to avoid another blow. He came up kneeling, morph-gun spitting fire at the enormous creature. No matter how many times a round found its mark, the bullets never seemed to penetrate Bane's steel hide. The Metal Head certainly didn't seem to mind the constant barrage of gunfire. And Jak was running low on ammo.

Bane bellowed his irritation and swept one gigantic claw under the outcropping. Jak danced out of the way, missing being eviscerated by mere centimeters. As Bane extracted his talons from under the stone, Jak took the opportunity to move in closer to the monster's torso and feed a burst of gunfire into its exposed side. The flesh just under the shoulder joint appeared to be a chink in the Metal Head's armor. Bane shrieked in annoyance and pulled his arm back to shield his vulnerable ribcage.

Jak kept moving. Bane recovered from his previous attack and began to lope after Jak on all fours. He snarled, his face pulled back to reveal fangs the size of small trees. Bane's easy stride was faster than Jak's, and soon Jak could feel the hot gust of the Metal Head's rancid breath on his back.

With the snap-decision making skills gained through years of saving the day, Jak spun around and continued running, this time _toward_ his adversary.

Bane came to an abrupt stop, momentarily confused. Without a second thought, Jak crouched down and rolled underneath the monstrous Metal Head. Bane lifted one foreleg and hissed, looking down at Jak with a ravenous hatred. But he was too slow. Jak squeezed off a half-dozen rounds into the monster's soft belly before Bane leapt away from the attack, screaming in pain.

The Metal Head landed several yards away and spun about. He stood still for a moment, and it seemed to Jak that the beast was sizing him up for the next assault. Suddenly, Bane glanced down at his chest. Jak followed his bewildered gaze.

A thick black liquid was dripping continuously from the wounds on Bane's lower chest. The blood splattered to the stone ground and pooled between the Metal Head's feet. Bane looked sharply up to meet Jak's eyes in a baffled gaze. Jak smirked.

With a feral roar, Bane lurched forward.

* * *

They arrived at the entrance to the Nest unscathed. Keira was off the zoomer before it had come to a complete stop, and she stumbled forward to prevent herself from falling face-first on the ground. Hopping sideways a bit to maintain her balance, she tugged the morph-gun out of its holster and started towards the cave entrance.

Daxter called out to her, and she stopped long enough for the rodent to fall heavily to the ground and catch up before continuing her headlong flight into enemy territory.

"Keira," Daxter pleaded breathlessly, tiny legs churning to keep up, "I don't think… we should… run into this… without a plan."

Keira stopped momentarily and crouched down. She held out one hand to the winded ottsel so that he could climb up. "You didn't have to come, Dax. I told you this was going to be dangerous. If you want to back out, I won't judge you. Go wait by the zoomer. If I don't come back out with Jak in an hour, go back to the city. Alert the Guard and… and tell Daddy I'm sorry."

Daxter stood dumbfounded. Jak had never given him the opportunity to turn tail and run away from a problem. Now Keira was practically urging him to think of his own safety. At first, he immediately rejected the idea. His best friend was in mortal danger and he needed to be there to help in any way he could. But on the other hand…

Keira was right. This was going to be suicide. On the battlefield, it was luck that decided whether you came out a war hero or in a body bag. What they were doing now was nothing less than defiantly placing themselves directly in front of the mother of all monsters with the intent of pissing it off. Odds were insurmountably against them.

It would be really nice to just sit this one out for once.

He glanced back at the idling zoomer, then at Keira and her outstretched hand. Her eyes radiated cold determination. He couldn't bear the thought of running away and letting his best friends die needlessly.

Daxter shook his head fiercely to dispel any lingering thoughts of guilt.

"Will you stop giving me choices? You know I don't cope well under pressure!" He crawled up Keira's waiting arm and perched himself on her shoulder. She stood and glanced at the rodent out of the corner of her eye.

"Are you sure?"

"You know, if I didn't know any better, I'd think you were trying to get rid of me. Well, no sale, sister. You're gonna need to try harder than that to shake Orange Lightning. Besides," he added with an easy grin. "You wouldn't last ten seconds without my help."

Keira smiled warmly.

"Well, what're we standing around for? Jak's probably in the fetal position right now, crying for his ole' buddy Daxter to save his sorry ass. Let's get on with it."

Keira swapped the modification on her morph-gun. "I just hope we're not already too late."

* * *

Jak ground his teeth as he fed the remainder of the clip into Bane's chest.

_Click._

"Son of a bitch," he growled. He'd emptied every mod on the over-sized Metal Head, and the damn thing still hadn't gone down. His efforts hadn't been in vain; Bane was definitely slowing down. Wounds on his chest and belly bled thick black blood. But it was going to take a lot more firepower to take him out.

Bane quickly noticed the lack of gunfire and took full advantage of the opportunity. He chuckled ominously and approached Jak. With a howl of delight, the beast reached out for him, talons slowly extending. It was clear that Jak was at a disadvantage, and Bane was going to enjoy every minute of this.

Just as his talons were closing around him, Jak lashed out with a powerful spin-kick that knocked his opponent's grip away from him. Angrily, Bane curled his lip and slapped Jak away with a powerful backhand that threw the hero against the stone wall.

Jak crumpled from the impact. The Metal Head laughed cruelly as he followed Jak's trajectory across the cavern.

"You had me fooled for a moment," Bane roared cheerfully. "The great Jak Mar, hero of the people of Haven, slayer of the Metal Head scourge. I thought you'd offer a little more challenge. And to think, I'd sent my entire army after you when I could have finished the job myself. How ironic."

Jak stirred and tried to rise. He coughed and spit blood on the stone beneath him. Slowly, he managed to get to his feet.

"Yeah, well maybe you shouldn't have hid behind your minions like a coward," he spat.

Bane sneered. "Hid? Perhaps. I'll keep that in mind next time. I'm sure someone will be foolish enough to try to pick up your legacy where it ends."

"There won't be a next time!" Jak shouted, throwing a wild uppercut when Bane had gotten close enough.

Hissing in contempt, Bane struck out again, catching Jak on the arm. Blood rushed to clot the wound, and Jak cried out, but he was able to dodge the worst of the attack. The Metal Head followed up with a savage gnashing of teeth that would have been the end if Jak hadn't stumbled backward over a rock protrusion. He rolled out of harm's way without a second to spare as Bane's tail came down hard where he had just lain.

The impact of the monster's tail jarred the stalactites hanging from the ceiling. One formation came loose and fell to the stone floor, shearing through Bane's right wing near the base of his spine on its way down. The Metal Head was positioned just right for the rock to do some damage, and Bane screamed his pain and rage until Jak was forced to cover his ears. But the incident had given him an idea.

If he could position himself near a wall and taunt the creature, Bane might charge into the rock and knock a few more stalactites loose. It was a long shot, but it was all he had to work with.

Jak staggered out from behind the outcropping he had been crouching under and stood near the wall of the cavern. Bane was preoccupied with his tattered wing and did not notice the boy's movements. To call attention to himself, Jak shouted at the monstrosity.

"Hey chrome-dome," he called. Bane tore his gaze from his wounded wing to find Jak. "You want to finish what you started?"

Furious, Bane unleashed a growl so deep that the cave floor shuddered with its vibrations. Jak held his ground as the Metal Head came at him full speed.

Come on… Just a little closer… 

At two yards away, Jak tensed to throw himself to the side. At that tiny movement, understanding flashed in Bane's eyes. The beast stopped as quickly as he could, raking his talons into the ground to prevent sliding full force into the wall.

Bane gave a low chuckle.

"You think you're pretty clever, don't you boy?" he seethed. "I have to give you your props, though. It was a very creative, very _desperate_ try at salvation. But I think you'll find that I am a bit more evolved than the last Hora Quan you did battle with."

"You're no better. You're just like Kor. Twisted and hateful. You'll never be anything else," Jak countered.

"Oh, won't I? I suppose you'll never find out. But consider this: Could it be you that brings out the worst in us? Once you're gone, perhaps I'll loose this 'blood lust'. But then again…"

Bane grinned horribly.

He was no less than a few feet away from Jak at this point.

"You know, I feel that I would be remiss not to tell you this. You should find some solace in your death; your lover will soon follow you to the next world. How's that for chivalry?"

Jak stood completely still, letting what the Metal Head said sink in. What did that mean? Surely Keira was safe and sound in her hospital room?

Bane watched Jak's confusion with immense pleasure.

"I'd love to let you work it out on your own, but I fear that time is short. As we speak, Keira will be receiving a visit from an acquaintance of mine. And this time, she will not escape with a mere flesh wound."

Jak's knees threatened to give out on him. But a desperate thought brought courage to his voice.

"You don't know where she is."

"Haven Hospital, ICU ward. Room 242."

Jak felt like his world had lost its center. The bastard knew exactly where she was. And he had sent an assassin to finish the job.

"You twisted son of a bitch," Jak began, his voice cracking. "I swear to God I'll…"

"Oh give it up. You'll do nothing. You'll die here, in this cave, without a cause or a legacy. And when my troop gets into that hospital, he'll tear Keira apart. He'll make her beg. At first she'll plead for her life. Then, she'll scream for him to kill her…"

"No," Jak breathed in agony.

"And the whole while, she'll hope that you save her. She'll pray that you'll come in time to rescue her from her tormentor, but instead you'll die here. Can you hear her scream your name?"

"No!"

The world began to fade. Darkness obscured Jak's vision, and an electrical current shot through his veins like fire. He could hear himself roar, feel his dormant energy awaken. When the blackness receded, he could see the cave awash in shades of red. He was in motion, but his body was not his own. He stumbled towards Bane, who had retreated a few yards in light of Jak's transformation.

Bane hissed at Jak's approach, eyes narrowed.

"What is this?" he growled.

Jak answered with his fists. He kicked out savagely, his limbs spinning in a maddening whirl of dark energy. Jak didn't know how many times he connected or how much damage he inflicted. All he knew was that he was angry and that he could alleviate that rage by killing the monster before him. He struck out again and again, fists, talons and legs wreaking havoc on the Metal Head leader.

Jak barely registered the shrieks of pain and fury emanating from the monster as he continued to tear at him.

It seemed that only a few minutes went by before the demon began to withdraw. He simply did not have the energy to keep up the constant barrage. Jak's surroundings began to swim in front of his eyes, and he began to loose his balance. He held his head for a brief moment, and when his attention was turned inward, Bane struck him in the ribs.

That was it. Jak couldn't take any more punishment. He blacked out for a few seconds. When he opened his eyes and tried to roll over, Bane was standing over him, a hate-filled glare aimed downward.

"Now do you see? You cannot win. This is the end for you. Good-bye, Jak Mar."

Jak set his jaw and prepared for the final blow.

There was a deafening blast, as if a canon had gone off inside the cavern, and Bane began to convulse. He shrieked and spun around as soon as his motor skills came back to him. Jak's eyes followed the direction of Bane's gaze.

Standing in the opening of the cave was Keira. Her face was set in hard determination. She held in her arms a smoking Peacemaker. As Jak's eyes fell on her disbelievingly, she gave him a grim smile and cocked the gun.

Bane slammed his fist into the nearest stalagmite, crushing it into fragments and dust.

"You're supposed to be dead!" he screamed.

"Sorry to disappoint," she replied. Jak couldn't believe how calm she sounded. Only her eyes betrayed her demeanor. She kept glancing at Jak, as if she were inspecting the damage he had sustained. Jak silently reprimanded her for taking her eyes off of the enemy; he was certain he had gone over that at the shooting range.

"Allow me to amend that little slip up," Bane retorted, launching himself at Keira.

"Keira, look out!" Jak cried, finding the strength to get to his feet.

She needed no warning, however. As soon as the monster took the first step, she tightened her finger around the trigger, and a violet glow began to radiate from the gun's muzzle.

"Do it and I'll shoot," she threatened whole-heartedly. "You know I will, Gimpy."

Bane snarled his hatred, but he stopped nonetheless. Jak knew that Keira would not last long, even with a fully loaded Peacemaker trained on the monster's chest. He had to think of a way to destroy Bane once and for all. And quickly.

He glanced about the cavern, looking for anything he could use to his advantage while Keira had the Metal Head distracted. His gaze fell on the large pool of dark eco on the other side of the cave. If he could get to it without attracting Bane's attention, he could replenish his dark energy and finish the monster.

He began to inch his way towards the pond very carefully.

Keira's eyes darted to Jak only for a second. She seemed to know exactly what he was up to, and easily took the initiative.

"Next time, you really ought to send a more competent assassin," she began, making her voice a little louder to cover up Jak's footsteps. "I didn't even have to slow down to take him out."

"Is that so? It would interest me greatly to know how you came to be here so quickly. You look no worse for the wear," Bane inquired in mock-conversational tones.

"Clean air will do wonders," Keira replied sarcastically.

_Just hold him off for a little longer…_ Jak prayed. He was near the shore of the pool now. He crouched down and reached out to touch its surface.

"Sorry I'm late. What'd I miss?"

Jak looked up sharply to find Daxter now standing at Keira's feet. The ottsel was staring bug-eyed at the giant Metal Head, looking for all the world like a deer in headlights.

"By the friggin' Precursors," he exclaimed lamely. "Bane?"

The monstrosity laughed again. "You brought a rat on a rescue? How fitting."

"Now listen up, bolts-for-brains," Daxter retorted with bravado, "I was gonna mount you right next to Daddy-Dearest, but just for that, I think I'll just use that skull gem of yours as a doorstop."

Bane sneered disdainfully. "And just how do you plan on stopping me, Tiny One?"

"I'm not," Daxter informed smugly. "But he might."

Baffled, Bane spun around to face Jak. Currents of dark electricity flared about him in a deadly aura. His eyes had gone black as pitch, and he pulled his lips back in a feral snarl. Before the Metal Head could make a move, Jak unleashed all the fury inside of him in a single blow. A lethal blast of dark energy shot from him with the force of a derailed train. There was a blinding flash, a scream of pain, and the acrid odor of burnt flesh and hot metal.

Bane was dead before he hit the stone floor.

* * *

It was over.

When her eyes had readjusted to the darkness after the supernova of light, Keira could see what remained of Bane lying limp as a ragdoll on the cave floor.

They had done it. Bane was forever gone, and the Metal Head attacks would stop entirely with their leader dead. Relief washed over Keira in an overwhelming wave, and her legs threatened to give out. To keep her balance, she leaned heavily against the rock wall and allowed the Peacemaker to slip from her hands. Eyes closed, she took a deep breath. Jak was safe, she was alive, and…

An unpleasant reminder bit at the back of her consciousness.

_Alive. For now. _

Now that it was all over, Keira couldn't help but feel like she was the punchline to some cruel cosmic joke. The enemy was obliterated and the City was safe again, but Keira wouldn't be around to enjoy the benefits of peace for very long. Already she could feel the green eco wearing off. She was living on borrowed time.

She threw her head back and screwed her eyes shut, but a tear of self-pity escaped and slid its sad way down her face.

"Whoa!" Daxter exclaimed belatedly. "Did you see the size of that thing? And all Jak had to do was…" His voice trailed off as he looked to Keira for conformation and found only a pained expression. "Uh, Keira? You, um, you okay?"

Keira opened her eyes and pushed herself away from the wall. She used the back of her hand to wipe away the wet trails and bent to retrieve her gun.

"Yeah, Dax, I'm…"

Her reply was cut short as a strong vibration shot through the stone beneath their feet. Both Keira and Daxter braced themselves against the aftershock, looking about wildly for falling rock formations.

"What the heck was that!" Daxter cried out as the vibrations receded a bit.

"I don't…"

A low grumbling began to emanate from the bowels of the cave system. With it came more tremors, these stronger than the first.

Keira immediately searched for Jak. He was standing with his back turned to her, farther out into the open cave. He seemed to be watching the darkness, waiting for something to happen.

A booming crash, followed by an echo like thunder. Keira jumped and looked for the source. A giant stalactite had shaken loose, and rock fragments now littered the stone floor. The point of the formation was embedded in the ground below.

Her eyes flashed to the ceiling, where more tremors were slowly working on the other stalactites. Cracks began to appear in the ceiling above, and chips of granite were falling like rain, hitting the floor with a cacophony of angry noises.

Daxter screamed. "Let's get the hell outta here!" He turned and started to run on all fours in the opposite direction, but stopped when he noticed Keira wasn't following.

"Jak!" she called out. He was slowly making his way back across the cave towards the entrance where she waited, but the falling debris made it hard for him to progress. He continually dodged and rolled, ducked and danced out of the way of every imaginable size of rock. Keira knew that he had sustained major injury from his battle with the Metal Head leader, and it killed her to watch him struggle for his life.

She took a step towards him.

"Hey!" Daxter was back at her feet, pushing at her ankles to prevent her from trying to help Jak. "We have to get out of here! The sky is falling!"

"But Jak…"

"He'll make it out alright. He's right behind us. Now move! We don't have time for this touchy-feely crap!"

He grabbed at her pant leg and tugged her towards the exit. She let him direct her back down the stone hall, breaking into an anguished run when the sounds behind them hit a crescendo.

Light broke through at the end of the tunnel. Keira kept running until she was out in broad daylight, out of danger of the collapsing Metal Head Nest. Daxter ran even further.

She slowed to a stop and turned around panting, afraid of what she might see. Or rather, what she might _not_ see. At first, there was nothing. The entrance to the tunnels hadn't fallen in on itself yet, and the crashing had subsided to a low rumble. Jak had not come out yet, either.

"Jak," she whispered helplessly. Feeling utterly defeated, Keira doubled over to catch her breath. Tears would come later.

Suddenly there was a resounding _crack_, but Keira didn't bother to look up. That sound could only mean that the rest of the cave was about to give in, and she didn't want to be witness to it. Only Daxter's exuberant remark made her stand up.

"Well, you sure took your sweet time."

She looked up sharply. The mouth of the cave system was crumbling, but that's not what caught her attention. Jak had made it out.

He was standing calmly at the foot of the rubble, staring out at his friends. His sides heaved, and his skin glistened with a sheen of sweat, but that was to be expected. What baffled Keira was that he was frighteningly pale. He held himself like an animal might, chest thrown out and powerful arms crooked and ready for combat.

She gasped as her gaze found his face. His lips were pulled back into a vicious snarl. But his eyes… His eyes were a deep black, void of any emotion but a terrifying anger.

"Jak?" She called. He didn't move.

_Oh, God. What's wrong with him? Did the dark eco do this to him? Can he even hear me? _Thoughts raced through her mind, none of them in the least reassuring.

Steeling herself, she took a tentative step towards the demon. As if to mirror her movements, Jak began to walk towards her as well.

"Keira…" Daxter warned, his tone uncertain.

"I'll be okay, Daxter. He won't hurt me." She squared her shoulders and took a deep breath.

_I hope._

* * *

Jak lumbered towards her, his worst fears unfolding right before his eyes. And he could do nothing to stop it. He could feel the muscles in his face constrict into a hateful snarl.

Keira stopped. She stood absolutely still, her confused eyes searching his empty ones imploringly. Her breathing was still heavy from her previous efforts, but she stood her ground as he got closer. He was just inches away now, teeth bared and talons flexing.

_No, _he screamed inside his head. _Not her. Stop! Leave her alone. _He fought with himself, raging inside his cage of a body. _Leave. Her. Alone! _Still she hadn't backed away, hadn't run or even put her arms up to protect herself. She didn't look scared… alarmed maybe, but not frightened of him. She seemed confused, mostly. He looked deeper and saw what was really hidden there: hurt.

_Come on, run, Keira. Please. Get away from me. I'm a monster. Run, baby. I don't want to hurt you… _he sobbed mentally, knowing she wasn't going to save herself. _Oh, Keira… _If he could have, he would have slammed his fist into a wall. _I love you._

He felt his arm tense for the blow.

Keira paid no attention to that. Something had registered in her eyes… understanding. Then she did something Jak never would have seen coming.

Without hesitation, Keira raised her arm and touched his face. She placed her hand on his cold gray cheek. Her thumb moved under his eye, much like she had done at the hospital. Was he crying? He had thought it was only in his head.

"Jak," she said tenderly. "I know you're in there. Come back to me."

His arms were still ready to strike, but he hadn't made a move to utilize them yet.

_I want to, Keira. I want to so bad. I want to tell you how much I love you, I want to hold you close, I want to kiss you all over…_

"Jak? Please come back to me. I need you." She was beginning to get worried, her voice cracking a little.

His facial muscles tensed even more, and Jak loathed himself for it.

Keira's eyes grew a little wider, but she remained where she was.

"Jak," she tried one last time, stunned tears held back by the same shock that brought them to her eyes. "_Please_. I love you." She leaned in and brushed her lips against his. "Please," she whispered against his skin, the desperation in her voice devastating. She kissed him, long and deep. Jak could feel her warmth, her breath against his face, her lips caressing his with such passion.

And he could feel his mouth working in response.

He wrapped his arms about her waist and pulled her into an unbreakable embrace. Keira made a small noise in her throat at the change in his actions and threw her arms around his neck, a new vigor in the way she kissed him back.

She pulled back to look at his normal, beautiful, loving face, beaming with joy and relief.

He returned her smile and reached up to touch her perfect face. "I love you so much, Keira."

The tears spilled over, but for a much different reason. "I love you, too, baby," she laughed through the emotion that made her voice thick. She buried her head in his chest, feeling that she could never be too close to him. Never before had he felt so solid, so real. Her arms had locked together behind him, and she was struck the absurd notion that they had been welded together.

_Fine with me, _she sighed mentally. _I hope you're comfy, Jak, 'cause I'm not sure I'll ever let you go…_

"Ahem." Daxter cleared his throat forcefully.

"No." Jak's voice.

"No, seriously. I've made a breakthrough here."

Reluctantly, Keira released Jak and turned to face the ottsel. Jak was less obliging, and he allowed Keira to turn her back to him, but kept his arms about her waist. He cocked an impatient eyebrow at his friend.

"We're waiting," he prompted.

"Remember how all those guns were missing from the shooting range? Well, guess what I found," Daxter announced triumphantly, hooking a thumb over his furry shoulder. Behind him stood a neat stack of weaponry. Dax sauntered over to the pile and leaned against the butt of a gun, suddenly interested in inspecting his fingernails. "I uh, woulda been there for you sooner, buddy, but these things are heavier than they look."

Keira made an incredulous sound.

Jak ignored her sarcasm. "Looks like Bane must've taken the guns to arm the Metal Heads with. He'd have had full access to the range while he was pretending to work for the Underground. Good work, Dax."

Daxter grinned vigorously at his friends.

He was about to make some finalizing remark when Jak's face fell. He took a step out from behind Keira and squinted at the horizon. Daxter and Keira followed his gaze.

Dust was beginning to stir further out. The trio watched in silence for a moment while vehicles began to appear amidst the turmoil of dirt. Keira took a step and put her hand on Jak's shoulder.

"What is it?" she asked tentatively.

Jak began to shake his head before he noticed Daxter was fidgeting. He speared the rodent with an icy glare of suspicion.

"Daxter…" he warned.

The ottsel flinched. "I… _may_ have called in reinforcements. They're, uh," he laughed nervously. "They're a little late."

"You called the Underground?" Jak accused, almost before Daxter had finished. "I didn't want this to get out of hand, Daxter. And I took care of it. _They_ shouldn't be here. Now I have to listen to Torn bitch about breaking protocol and he'll probably bust my balls about Keira being here…"

Keira stepped in between the boys.

"Leave Daxter alone. He meant well. He was trying to save your _life_. Did you think you could keep this from Torn forever? He was going to find out sooner or later. Besides," she added as an afterthought. "It's not like he called Daddy. Talk about busting your balls…"

"Um, Samos is probably with them. Just to give you the heads up," Daxter admitted timidly.

Now Keira rounded on him too.

"You told Daddy I was here?!" She took a threatening step towards him. Daxter put up his arms in defense.

"I had to! Ole' Log Noggin took the com-link from Torn in the middle of our conversation. He'd gotten a call from the hospital about you being AWOL and he was demanding to know where you were! You know how I get when Big Green gets pissed."

Keira put her hands to her head in frustration.

"You know, your dad was going to find out about your disappearance sooner or later too," Jak offered.

"I know, I just… I guess I was hoping I wouldn't have to deal with it this soon. I'm sorry, Jak," she apologized, turning to face her boyfriend. "I know I'm more trouble than I'm worth sometimes."

Jak shook his head in bewilderment. He reached out and put his hands on the sides of her face. "What, Samos? I've leaned to all but tune him out. It'll be okay. What's he gonna do? Forbid me to see you? He knows that won't stop me. Nothing would keep me from you."

She grinned up at him gratefully.

"He's gonna be _so_ mad," she giggled, resigned.

"Hey, we've survived thousands of the sage's lectures," Daxter piped up. "How much worse can this one be?"

* * *

"…ought to have him shot. Ever since he started chasing after you, I've known he was going to drag you down into more trouble than you could get out of. It's a miracle you're still alive! Of all the irresponsible, selfish, brazen acts of disobedience…"

"Daddy…" Keira pleaded. She stood with her hands clasped behind her back, trying to appear as innocent and unimposing as possible. She had endured this verbal spanking for nearly ten minutes straight, and nothing she could say seemed to slow Samos down. Daxter had slunk off with the rest of the Underground to do a conclusive sweep of the Nest. It looked as if the ottsel would rather throw himself on the mercy of any remaining Metal Heads than face the wrath of Samos the sage.

"What were you thinking, Keira? Were you trying to give your father a heart attack? Do you know how worried I was? You know I would never forgive him if you had gotten hurt."

"Daddy, it wasn't his fault…"

"And to make matters worse, you used my power to help you pull this dangerous little stunt. My own flesh and blood! You lied to me so you could come to his rescue, this… this bone-headed fool of a boy…"

"Listen to me, Daddy. You're not listening. I don't care what you say. I'm sorry I lied to you. I'm sorry you were so scared. But I'm not sorry I came here. I did what I did because I had to. I…" Here she paused, steeling herself for the finale. "I love him. I couldn't let him die."

Jak approached Keira from behind and put his hands protectively on her shoulders. He admired her resolve. And he admired that she was strong enough to tell her father how she felt. Jak didn't think he would have had the guts to tell the sage that he was in love with his daughter. He gave her shoulders a reassuring squeeze.

"If you had, you would have spared your old man a stroke he didn't need," Samos countered without missing a beat.

Jak blinked, incredulous.

"You don't mean that," Keira rebuked firmly. She reached up and took one of Jak's hands to make sure that he wasn't offended.

"Yes I do. Get away from her." Samos took a half-hearted swing at Jak with his walking stick. Jak ducked smoothly. "You are nothing but trouble, Jak. She's better off without you."

"Daddy!" Keira admonished. She gripped Jak's hand tighter. "Stop it. He's good to me, you know he is. None of this is his fault. He didn't ask me to come out here. I just did. Leave him out of this. You can't blame Jak for my actions."

Jak cleared his throat and prepared to make his case.

"Don't. Start." The green sage pointed his stick meaningfully at Jak. "You almost made me lose my little girl this time."

"But Daddy, you didn't lose me," Keira implored.

Samos remained silent. He sighed, venting unspent aggravation. Jak saw his opportunity to placate the old man and took it.

"Samos, I just want you to know I think you're absolutely right. I never meant to put Keira in danger. God knows that's the last thing I ever want to do. She really should have stayed where she was at the hospital."

Keira glanced at him over her shoulder, a hint of indignation in her eyes.

He smiled warmly at her.

"But I'm glad she didn't."

She grinned back at him and took his arms, wrapping them around herself like a blanket.

The moment was ruined by Samos' snort of derision.

"You're damn lucky she didn't leave it to you. If it weren't for Keira, you'd be dead. You were both reckless, and you deserve each other. I'm too old for this."

With that, the sage turned and headed back to the air transport, tired and resigned.

The couple watched him retreat in shock. After a moment of silence, Keira turned around in Jak's arms slowly.

"Well, you got off easy," she teased.

"Hey, I'm just as surprised as you are," he replied.

"You know, I thought you were going to throw me to the wolves for a minute."

"Never," Jak breathed, pulling her tighter against him. He brushed her lips with his. "Thank you, Keir. I owe you my life."

"Don't be so dramatic. He wouldn't have hurt you."

Jak smiled. "I meant earlier."

Keira laughed. "Oh, that. Well, you're very welcome. You really didn't think I'd stand by and let you get yourself killed, did you?"

"I hoped you wouldn't. Because then I wouldn't be able to do this."

He leaned forward and kissed her, all his love and gratitude displayed in one passionate gesture.

When he pulled away, he could see that Keira was crying. Immediately concerned, he searched her eyes for an explanation. She smiled softly at him, shaking her head at his unspoken question.

"Happy tears," she whispered. "Just happy tears, love."

"Keira?"

"Yes."

"I want to be with you when the world caves in."

She paused a moment to kiss his neck.

"I can't think of anyone I'd rather be with."

* * *

A/N: Yeah, I know, it's still inconclusive. There are a few loose ends to be tied up, namely Keira's impending death. But never fear, there will be an epilogue. I think I'll wait for a few reviews to post it, though. Good reviews are like heroine. No baking soda added.

I apologize for the delay. How often have you heard that one? No, seriously. I'm graduating in a few months and things are really starting to heat up. Papers to slog through with little to no motivation, college apps to complete, FAFSA crawling up my ass about every little thing... Plus, I'm in the delicate procedure of trying to get back together with my ex. And you all know how exhausting that can be. So, I'll see you when I see you. Metaphorically, anyway.

-A.D.


	16. Chapter 16: Epilogue

A/N: Wow, so here it is. Granted, the epilogue portion is really just a few paragraphs at the bottom, and this is more or less the real final chapter... But what are you gonna do? It's just the way it happened. Um, I know it took forever and a day for this to wrap up cough cough four years cough but I hope it was worth it. I think I've gotten a lot out of this, and I can only hope that you've all enjoyed the story. Again, HUGE apologies are in order for the wait. This chapter was meant to be my way of thanking you all for your continuing support and loyalty to the fic, but it got delayed too, so I'm out of ideas. Well, at least I got it done before the fall semester kicks in!

Okay, I'll let you get to the goods. Just know that this one's for you guys, and I love you all. Peace.

* * *

Jak felt Keira tremble a bit in his arms.

He thought nothing of it. She had been in joyful tears just moments before. It only followed that she would be trying to suppress her emotions.

He held her tighter, pressing his lips into the hollow of her neck. He was so overwhelmed with an intense relief that came with victorious exhaustion that he couldn't care less if anyone were to witness his display of affection. If anyone made a big deal about it, he'd kick their ass later.

Keira sighed and seemed to relax in Jak's embrace. Her head fell forward onto his shoulder. For a split second, Jak was convinced that Keira was simply spent both physically and emotionally. Understandable, under the circumstances. It was only after her head lolled alarmingly that Jak realized she had literally blacked out.

Her legs had suddenly become useless. Her arms, previously locked about his neck, fell away as she succumbed to unconsciousness. If Jak had not been holding her to begin with, Keira would have crumpled to the ground.

"Keira?" he inquired, concern making his voice urgent. "Keira!"

Quickly, he scooped her up into a carrying position, one arm supporting her shoulders and the other under her knees. Her eyes were closed, her face giving the impression of a peaceful sleeper. Jak shook her a bit in an attempt to revive her.

"C'mon baby, wake up…"

A fear that had remained dormant for the past few hours resurfaced in a sudden, violent flash of horrible realization. _The infection! Oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit…_

"Oh _shit_," he voiced aloud, his mind now racing with ultimatums. Fortunately, his exhaustion hadn't completely drained his mental resources. He turned about with Keira in his arms, searching for anyone in earshot.

"Help!" he called out. There was a group of KG volunteers loitering around the stash of morph-guns. A few of them heard his plea and turned to face him, startled. Without waiting for a response, Jak continued. "Can somebody go bring a vehicle around? A two-seater, anything! I've gotta get her to a hospital, _now_."

Two volunteers began to scurry in urgency toward the lot of zoomers parked just downhill. The others stared blankly at Keira's lifeless form, dumbfounded.

"What happened?" one inquired in a tone of disbelief.

Another intoned an incredulous "Holy shit."

Jak had no patience for these slack-jawed idiots.

"Get outta the way!" he growled, trudging past them toward a hovercar that was speeding to their position. The vehicle skidded to a hasty stop just before it would have taken Jak and his precious charge out. Carefully, Jak set Keira down in the passenger side seat while the driver got out.

The volunteer had no time to ask questions before Jak climbed into the hovercar and began barking instructions.

"Find Samos. He headed for the air train a few minutes ago. Tell him I took his daughter back to the hospital . Tell Daxter, too, if you can find him." As he spoke, he threw the vehicle into reverse and began to back up. The KG troop nodded in compliance, despite his bewildered expression. He opened his mouth to say something, but Jak called "Thanks," and tore off for the emergency room for the second time in one day.

* * *

Thirty minutes later, Jak was arguing fervently with the nurse on duty.

"… understand your concern for your friend, sir, but it's in her best interests to let the doctors take care of her for now," the stubborn woman refuted, wearily staring him down with an expression that firmly said _You cannot win_.

"I _want _the doctors to take care of her," Jak countered, his tone hinting at impatient anger. "All I'm asking from you is to open that damn door and let me see her."

"We've been over this, sir. She's in no condition for visitors. Now, if you'd take a seat in the waiting room…"

"I'm not going to take a seat, because if I sit down, I'm going to pass out. You have no idea how bad my day has been. And even though my energy is literally gone, I am prepared to stand here and argue with you until you either let me see Keira or one of us dies from old age. And it looks like you've got a couple of decades on me, lady." Jak planted his hands on the counter before him to show that he meant business.

"Okay, sir, I'm going to give you one last warning. I sympathize with your situation, I really do. But if you don't take a seat and wait like everybody else, I am going to call security." The nurse squared her shoulders.

A menacing growl was beginning to form in the back of Jak's throat. If he hadn't already spent all his dark energy, he was afraid that he would've been more than a handful for the unsuspecting RN. Just as he was about to issue another threat, the door in question opened from the inside. A doctor stepped outside into the waiting room and looked around. As he turned in their direction, Jak realized that it was the same doctor that had treated Keira before.

The MD spotted Jak by the nurses' station. He immediately made his way over to him.

"There you are, Jak," the doctor commented. "Keira has been asking for you."

Turning from the belligerent nurse, Jak faced the man. "She's awake?"

"Yes, and apparently, you are the only thing on her mind. There's no placating her. This way, please." The doctor began to lead the way through the open door.

"Dr. Keel," the nurse protested. "No one is supposed to be back there without clearance, you know that."

"I'm giving him clearance. Excuse us."

"But Dr. Keel…"

Dr. Keel ignored her insistent calls. Jak followed the man through the door and into the emergency ward, taking pleasure in the frustrated protests of the head nurse.

"Thanks for taking care of the pain in the ass back there," Jak said. "I was about to make my own door if you'd left it alone."

The doctor gave Jak a curious glance over his shoulder.

"The only thing I'm taking care of is Miss Hagai. She was calling for you as soon as she came out of it. She really is making a fuss. Bringing you to her is the only option I have if I want any peace."

Despite everything, this made Jak grin. He found that he liked the fact that he was on her mind so much.

They approached her room. Even from the hall, Jak could hear her pitiful cries.

"…Jak? Jak! Oh, where the hell are you?"

Jak pushed past the doctor and into the room. "Right here, Keir." He walked straight to where she sat on the edge of the cot.

He knelt down in front of her to be more on her level. Before he could say anything else, she wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him fiercely.

"Took your sweet time," she whispered.

Jak returned the embrace, kissing her softly in the hollow of her neck. "I tried to see you sooner. How long have you been up?"

"Maybe ten minutes. Don't leave me, okay?" She took his hands in hers as if she was afraid to let go.

Jak's heart twisted in his chest.

"Baby, I'm not going anywhere," he promised.

She offered him a shaky smile.

Dr. Keel cleared his throat. Keira turned her attention to the M.D., and Jak followed suit.

"I'll be back later. I have some tests to run, a few things to check on. Use the call button if you need anything, Miss Hagai." He shut the door, leaving the couple to talk.

Jak squeezed her hands.

"How do you feel? Are you dizzy, does your side hurt? Do you think you can…" Jak stopped when Keira shook her hand free of his to rake it through her hair. She exhaled loudly, more of a stall for time than a regular sigh.

Before Jak could comment, Keira reluctantly replied.

"Yeah, my side is killing me." She caught herself, grinning ruefully. "Literally."

Jak frowned, shooting her a disapproving look. Keira responded with a cynically cocked eyebrow. "Seriously, Jak. I think we're past false hope here. Don't start," she cut in again just as he opened his mouth to rebuke her. "Please. Don't." Her voice began to tremble, but she steeled herself and shook her head firmly.

Jak stood up only to sit down next to her on the cot. His heart was breaking all over again, and he was too worn out in every way to do anything about it. He just wanted her to shut up. He wanted all of this to go away. Up until now, he had thought he was coping fairly well, considering the circumstances. It was tearing him up, sure. But he had hidden how badly he was hurting from his friends, especially Keira, to spare them more stress. Now he was tired… so tired. He couldn't handle it, not now. Not ever.

He took her in his arms and let his head rest on her shoulder. Keira felt his body shudder against hers and knew that he had finally broken. She held him briefly, then pushed him away enough to see his face. As she had feared, tears were running freely down his cheeks. His icy blue eyes emitted such pain…

She placed both hands on the sides of his face. "No no no, God, no, Jak, please baby, no, I can't… I… oh God." She clenched her own eyes shut against the wave of impending tears. When she opened them again, his face was still there, begging her to tell him she was okay. It was as if all reservations had passed, and Jak no longer cared about the truth. His expression, that heart-wrenching, terrible expression, blatantly said _Lie to me_.

She had never seen him look so terrifyingly helpless.

He was her rock. He'd always been her stability. When she was scared, Jak knew exactly what to say or do to dispel that fear, to make it go away. She was normally the one who needed to be held. Now the roles had reversed, and she couldn't deal with it. What do you do when the ground beneath your feet finally gives in?

He gripped her hand tighter.

"Jak," she breathed, uncertain that she could finish the thought. He held her eyes, still mentally pleading with her for any kind of hope.

She couldn't give it to him. As much as she wanted to, she couldn't lie to herself. It would only make things worse on everybody later on. She shook her head again. Jak lowered his eyes, and the tension succumbed to full-fledged sorrow. The atmosphere in the room _changed_. Like all the charged particles had suddenly dissipated, and in their place was an emptiness that needed to be filled with words. Words and actions.

Keira brought her knees up onto the cot, sitting on them a moment as she debated what next to do. Quickly, she made a decision.

_I might not ever get another chance._

Resolved and possessed of a passion that only the truly heartbroken know, she crawled the tiny distance that separated her from Jak. Deliberately, she took his face in her hands. He looked at her, the desperate longing in his gaze causing more tears to spill from her eyes. She kissed him, meaningfully and slowly.

Jak let his arms snake around her waist. He pulled her onto his lap, arms closing and locking behind her. He held her with the determination of a warrior guarding something invaluably precious. He felt that if he kept her there, safely wrapped in his arms, nothing could take her away from him. No evil could touch her while she clung to him so desperately.

Keira's voice was thick and breathy when she spoke into Jak's chest.

"I… I don't think we have a lot of time." She paused for a moment, knowing that what she was about to say would change their lives. "I want you, Jak."

Jak knew exactly what she meant. They hadn't had enough time together, and he'd wanted her for years now. That she would be taken away from him just as they were finally ready to express their love… it was nothing short of cruel. He knew that she would have wanted to wait, but they weren't given that luxury. They had to take advantage of the time they had _now_.

Still, in her condition, Jak was hesitant to comply. There was a moment of silence as they held one another apprehensively.

"Keira… are you sure?"

She pulled back to meet his eyes.

"Yes," she replied with finality. "I _want_ you." She kissed him again, almost experimentally. Jak responded passionately. He kissed her lips, her neck. His hands started on her shoulders, slowly sliding the straps of her tank top down her arms.

She helped him, pulling the shirt up over her head. She discarded it and reached out to remove Jak's. Her fingers slid up his waist, trailing tentative fire up his abdomen. Jak quickly wrenched his own shirt free, and Keira was left to gaze at the muscular expanse of his chest in appreciation. Hesitantly, she reached out a cautionary hand, as if she were asking permission to touch him. Jak leaned into it, giving his consent to do what she would.

Her hands ran up his chest slowly, savoring every sensation…

* * *

An hour later, they lay in each others' arms, too spent to move. Jak stared at the antiseptically stark ceiling, contemplating his lack of options. Keria's head rested in the hollow of his neck, her breathing finally slowing back to normal. Jak's arm was draped protectively around her slender waist, careful of the newly rebandaged wound. She curled up on her good side, one hand flat on Jak's chest.

The movement turned Jak's attention back to her. He used his free hand to brush the hair out of her face. She shivered a bit as the building's forced air system chose that particular moment to kick on. Jak gathered the quilt, previously strewn haphazardly across the cot, and pulled it tighter around his lover. In return, she kissed his lips.

When she pulled away, Jak met her gaze. There were tears in the corners of her eyes. Instinctively, he knew that they had nothing to do with regret or physical pain. He knew because he felt the exact same way. All she wanted was him. She had dreamt of being with him, of _this_, for so long. It just hurt so much that they might never get another chance to be together like this again.

He wanted to take her pain away so badly.

"Keira, I love you _so_ much," he breathed close to her ear. "I need you."

"I love you too, Jak. More than I think you know." She kissed his neck, gently bit his ear. His sharp intake of breath made her smile, if only for a second.

There was a brief silence. Finally, Keira voiced what they had both been thinking.

"Jesus, Jak. What are we going to do?" Her eyes sought his.

He couldn't answer right away. Under the quilt, his arm wrapped around her naked waist and pulled her close, their bodies pressed together. "We wait," he began solemnly. "We wait and pray and fight. If there's anything that I can do, _anything_, you know I will."

"Just stay with me. Okay?" Her arm fell around his waist, her fingers brushing the small of his back. The sensation sent a pleasant shiver up his spine. "Don't go." It was a plea that Jak found no trouble in answering.

"I'll be right here. I'll stay with you until…" he let the sentence trail off, knowing that he couldn't finish it without breaking down again. The truth hurt like hell, and the lie would only be harder to swallow in the end. They both knew what he meant.

There came a polite knock at the door.

Keira froze in his arms, momentarily paralyzed at the thought of someone walking in on them. Instinctively, Jak held her tighter.

"Oh God, Jak, what if it's Daddy? He's got to know by now that we're here…" she whispered in a panicked voice. "On top of everything, he can't see us like this, he'll have a heart attack!"

"Shh," he soothed. In a louder voice, he announced, "Just a minute, we're… discussing… something private." He knew it was a lame excuse, and if it _was_ Samos on the other side of that door, it would hardly stop him, but he had to improvise. Keira raised an unbelieving eyebrow at him, and he shrugged.

Quickly and quietly, they rolled out of the sheets long enough to dress. Keira made an attempt to comb her hair with her fingers, but gave up. Without a word, she crawled back onto the cot, straightening the covers about her. She gave Jak a warning look and called out, "Okay, come on in."

Jak situated himself on the edge of her cot so that it would appear as if they had been in an intimate conversation moments before. The door creaked open a few inches, then opened the rest of the way more confidently. The white-clad Doctor Keel stepped into the room and took in the scene without flinching. He noted the tousled hair and gave them both a secretive grin.

"Must've been… important," he mused aloud. "Jak, your shirt's on backward," he added as an afterthought.

Startled, Jak looked down at his chest to find the tag sticking up in his face. Keira put her head in her hand, exasperated. The gesture also helped to conceal the color that was rapidly rising to her face.

Eager to change the topic, Jak tucked the tag back in and tried not to redden. "So, what brings you here, Doctor?"

"Test results are in," Dr. Keel reported, all the humor gone from his countenance.

The couple immediately sobered. They glanced at one another, mutually concerned. Neither spoke, because neither one wanted to be the person to prompt the bad news. It was easier to handle when it remained unspoken by the authority.

Keira took Jak's hands and squeezed.

Without hesitating, Dr. Keel continued, his face betraying nothing.

"When Miss Hagai was first admitted, the infection had already set in, as you both know. I told her father what I am about to tell you. Metal Head related injuries are almost always grave. Statistics show that eighty percent of this kind of infection will turn out to be lethal. The only way to save the patient is to catch the infection in the very early stages. But Keira had been subject to it for hours before she was brought here."

Jak's face had gone entirely white. Keira's grip on his hands had loosened in defeat, and she had lost all feeling in her now useless arms. Jak turned to her. The look on her face was indescribable. There was pain and fear, yes, but something else, too. Perhaps a hint of graceful acceptance? He hated that she could be so brave when he was on the verge of breaking. No longer caring about keeping their relationship discreet, Jak wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. Grateful for the support, Keira let her head fall onto his shoulder. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, trying in every way to make this easier for both of them.

The M.D. paused in respect for their actions. When it occurred to him that Jak didn't intend to release her, he continued.

"I avoided telling you this because, well, we had to try a few things before throwing in the towel. And it looks like something worked."

For a moment, no one spoke. Jak froze at the same time Keira went completely limp. All the shocks to her system had finally caught up with her, and her nerves couldn't take anymore. She remained conscious, but her limbs had become rubber in something akin to relief. She found she couldn't speak.

Jak sharply turned his head to the doctor.

"What?" The inquiry came out flat in disbelief.

"It's very strange. I won't sugar coat it, Keira. By rights you should be at death's door. I know I'm the doctor here, but quite frankly, this case baffles me." He peered at the chart in his hand.

Keira found the strength to sit up in Jak's arms.

"Wait," she cut in. "So… I'm okay? I'm not… I'm not dying?"

"I never said you were 'okay,' miss. The wound still needs to be treated daily, you'll have to be put on a strong antibiotic regiment, and the infection is still present. It's just weaker. But nothing we shouldn't be able to quash with some meds." He made a nonchalant notation on the chart. "But no, you are not going to die."

The news was… fantastic. It did piss Jak off a little that the doctor was so cavalier about this new development, but he couldn't bring himself to be angry. This was just too… too great.

He took Keira's face in his hands.

"Did you hear that?" she whispered, her voice only daring to be half-hopeful. Her eyes begged confirmation.

Jak gave her a huge smile. "Yeah. Yeah, babe, I heard it." He placed one hand behind her neck and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

"Good. I just wanted to make sure," she breathed.

She looked so damn cute, her eyes wide and disbelieving, her tone uncertain. Jak couldn't suppress the short laugh that formed in his throat. Without warning, he leaned forward to claim her lips. She kissed him back, mildly surprised.

She pulled away slightly. Her next question was directed at the doctor. "How…? How is it even possible that I… I mean, you told Daddy that I wasn't going to make it, and now everything's fine? I'm sorry Doctor, but I've had my chain yanked enough to find something off with all this…" She shook her head to illustrate her bemusement.

Dr. Keel took a few steps closer to the cot. "I told your father that it was _unlikely _you'd pull through, not impossible. One-in-five isn't necessarily a death sentence. Though I will admit, I am pleasantly surprised by your recovery. I can't truthfully tell you exactly what happened to alter your condition, except perhaps a miracle."

Suddenly, Keira lowered her eyes. For a moment, she almost looked guilty of something to Jak. He was about to question her when she spoke again.

"So… you've got no idea how this happened? No theories?" she asked cautiously.

"Theories? I have one theory, yes. My best bet is that your little adventure this afternoon created a surplus of adrenaline in your bloodstream. Adrenaline makes the heart beat quickly, your blood pumps through your body at a faster rate. In a way, this could have cleansed your capillary system of the worst part of the toxins. It's very possible that the burst of adrenaline is responsible for warding off the infection."

Keira didn't look up.

"Maybe your saving me saved you too," Jak offered with a hint of good humored sarcasm.

"About that…" she began, her eyes peering up at him briefly before darting back down.

There was a moment of silence. Dr. Keel intruded on the peace.

"Keira, is there something you'd like to tell me? Something concerning this little miracle?" His tone was borderline accusatory. Jak would have snapped at him, but he was curious too.

She bit her lower lip, and took a deep breath. "Um… since we're all a little more hopeful about my health now, _hypothetically_, how bad would it be if I had … pumped myself full of unrefined green eco?" The end of her question was spoken softer, like she was afraid that they would hear her.

Jak's jaw dropped.

"_What_?" he demanded.

She gave him a pained half-grin. "I uh, I asked Daddy to help me out. I know it was really stupid, I know. But I'm not sorry. I had to get to you, Jak. There was no way I was going to let you get yourself killed."

Dr. Keel broke in. "You used raw eco? Like completely unrefined green eco pulled directly out of the earth?" Keira nodded reluctantly. "Hmm." He looked puzzled, then thoughtful. Finally, he shook his head. "Miss Hagai, I would not suggest that you try that ever again. I'm shocked that you would make such a risky decision in the first place, but I'm glad it worked out. Again, that practice is something that should not be repeated. There are so many things that could've gone wrong; especially if your body hadn't already built up a resistance to its effects. You could have easily compounded your situation. I feel I'd be remiss if I didn't admonish you for your reckless behavior, but…" he trailed off for a moment. "Maybe I should have a word with your father about the practical uses of eco in medicine. If he can work magic, he might have a place with us here in the hospital."

Keira rolled her eyes. "Oh, just what he needs, another ego boost."

Jak shook his head, but he found he couldn't reprimand her either. She was here, she was alive, and that was all that mattered.

"Is that going to affect my recovery?" she prompted.

"Anything's possible, as you've proven so thoroughly. But I wouldn't worry too much. If anything was going to happen, it probably would've already happened," the M.D. reassured.

"When can she come home?" Jak interjected. To him, this was the most important question now. He couldn't wait to start his life with her, without the stress of the Underground to weigh him down.

"I want to keep her overnight for observation purposes, but I think I can see her being released tomorrow." He directed his next words at Keira. "Keira, I'm sure that someone's gotten ahold of Samos, but he hasn't been given the good news yet. If you wanted to call him, there's a communicator on the bedside table. Otherwise, I can notify him and give him all the medical jargon. Your choice." The doctor folded the chart under his arm and waited for her answer.

Keira looked from Dr. Keel back to Jak. She offered him a mischievous grin. Without breaking eye contact with her boyfriend, she replied.

"Would you take care of it for me? I think I'm a little tied up right now."

* * *

The door swung open. From somewhere upstairs, Dawg barked excitedly. Frantic, hurried footsteps skidded to a halt at the top of the stairs.

Jak grinned.

"Here boy!" he called.

Dawg came barreling down the stairs, almost stumbling in his enthusiasm to greet them. Keira shut the door behind her as she entered her hut behind Jak, glancing around in renewed appreciation. It was good to be home, especially when you never thought you'd see the inside of your house again.

Jak knelt down to receive the energetic croca-dog. Keira laughed out loud when Dawg circumvented Jak's open arms and ran straight to her. She bent to stroke the affectionate animal, her eyes still on her annoyed boyfriend. He crossed his arms and got to his feet, one eyebrow raised in mock-irritation.

"Well, at least he's happy to see one of us," he commented sarcastically.

Keira stood, leaving Dawg to circle her anxiously. She gave Jak a sheepish grin. "Well, _I'm _grateful you're here," she placated, advancing towards him slowly. She took both his hands in each of hers, peering up at him with an uncertain smile. "I'm really glad we get more time. I was beginning to feel cheated there for a minute…"

Jak let go of her hands to wrap his arms about her waist and pulled her close. "Yeah, me too. _Really _glad. The… _alternative_ would've been cruelly unfair on a cosmic level."

She draped her arms around his neck. "So," she started, her voice trailing off sensuously. Her eyes dropped to his chest and traveled slowly back up to his gaze. "We've got all this time, huh?" She grinned at him mischievously. "Where do we start?"

Jak returned the smile.

"I think I have a pretty good idea."



* * *

Later that day, Keira called the Lucero widow to keep her promise and offer her condolences.

The following week, Daxter was able to open the Naughty Ottsel to the general public. The last of the illegal Lurker booze was distributed discreetly among his customers, much to the furry barkeep's relief. While a few connoisseurs had actually identified the origin of the alcohol, none had brought any attention to it. Daxter would've liked to think it was his charisma and acute powers of persuasion that prevented his arrest. But in reality, the townspeople associated the ottsel with their savior, and no one wanted to offend Jak, much less cross him. So they kept their mouths shut. No questions were asked, and the misdemeanor was overlooked by the Guard.

Keira's infection healed nicely, and her recuperation went off without complications. Dr. Keel contacted Samos about her improving condition and offered a reluctant kudos for his hand in her returning health. This put an unnecessary feather in Samos' proverbial cap, which had a two-fold result. One, Samos was unusually boastful and pompous for the next few months. And two, he gave up griping about Jak and Keira being together. It seemed that he would rather his daughter be taken and alive than single and dead.

The Metal Head attacks came to an abrupt halt after the defeat and death of Bane. For a while, Jak was concerned that another would take their leader's place and events would only repeat themselves. During this time, Keira begged Jak to retire permanently from the Underground in case something like that came to pass, but their fears were unfounded. The Metal Heads had become sparse and disorganized, and none of the beasts had any desire to attract the attention of the fearsome Hora Quan Slayer again.

Jak's nightmares stopped entirely. Through living out the scenario that had haunted his subconscious, he had conquered and dispelled his fears of inadvertently harming his lover. He knew that if the need should ever arise again to unleash the demon within him, he would now be able to actively control it. Now he spends his nights peacefully, happily, with Keira in his arms.

* * *

FINAL A/N: And that's all, folks! Let me know what you think. And yeah, I really hate Dr. Keel too. I know he's technically my character, but he turned out to be kind of an asshole. I dunno what happened. Sometimes they just take on a personality of their own.

Also, I feel I should mention that I ended up deleting an entire page of this chapter out of respect for the character's privacy. Plus, I didn't think it would be a good idea to end my fanfic career with a detailed sex scene. Might set a few people on edge.

So, really you guys, this has been great. I love this site and I will continue to read and drop comments every once in a while. It's really been an awesome way to test the waters. A great exercise to help get some of my work out there and see what people think. I am completely dead serious when I say that every one of you who has ever sent me a review, you're the reason I am continuing my writing career. My friends offer me support, but they're supposed to do that. It's an awesome feeling to get a positive review from people that you don't even know personally. That really makes my day. You are the reason that I look at my looming publication and say, "Yeah, I can do this." Thank you all SO much!

Peace and love,

-Alternative Delirium


End file.
